


May Be Home

by Fangirlxwritesx67



Series: May Be Home [1]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural AU
Genre: Car Sex, F/M, First Time, Food Kink, Oral Sex, Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:55:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 24,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22517356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlxwritesx67/pseuds/Fangirlxwritesx67
Summary: Sasha longs for the day when her heart will find its home. But she is in love with a man who doesn’t know she exists: the handsome, soulful blues singer, Dean Winchester. When she gets an opportunity to make her wildest dreams come true, Sasha takes the chance. Who knows if Dean will remain a sexy fling?Or if, for her, Dean may be home?
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Original Female Character(s)
Series: May Be Home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620145
Comments: 14
Kudos: 4





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> au!rockstar Dean Winchster x OFC Sasha  
> beta'd by Incog_Ninja

The business card in Sasha's hand was black, made of heavy paper, embossed with black lettering that was only visible when she tilted it a certain way in the light.

Dean Winchester, it said on one side.

On the other side was a phone number with the words "serious inquiries only" below it.

Sasha flipped the card in her fingers over and over. She didn't know what would happen if she called the number, and part of her was afraid to find out.

But if there was one thing that Sasha was serious about, it was the blues singer Dean Winchester.

He had burst onto the music scene barely a year ago. The story was that in his late 30s he got tired of unfulfilled dreams, quit his job as a bartender, and started making music. His first album barely registered, but he did get a gig opening for Colter Wall. Before the tour was over, fans were buying tickets to see Dean, not Colter. His second album was a huge hit, and he rode the success to his own tour.

What was it about Dean Winchester that drove the fans wild? His voice, for starters. He had a surprisingly broad vocal range, able to soar and scream and growl all in one song. His sweet spot, though, was those deep notes that drove the blues along.

Everyone who heard his music, whether they liked him or not, was impressed with his raw talent. But more than talent, Dean Winchester possessed a magnetism that women and men alike found irresistible.

It could’ve been anything - his handsome, chiseled face, sprinkled with golden stubble; his thick hair, toasted almond shot with gold, artfully mussed as if he had just rolled out of bed; his strong arms and the way they flexed when he played the guitar; his long legs and round ass and the way he rocked his hips that made everyone in sight think of filthy things. Or maybe it was his mouth, his pouty full lips that were almost obscene on a man, and the way he seemed to kiss the audience when he sang.

No one knew exactly what his secret was.

Certainly, Sasha didn't know. All she knew was that the first time she saw a video of him singing, she fell in love.

Something about Dean was different from anyone she had ever seen. It wasn't just his talent or his gorgeous face. There was an openness to his songs, a vulnerability in his performance.

When Dean sang, his music moved Sasha in a way she couldn't even begin to describe, reaching all the way into her soul. His voice carried such a longing that she ached to hear it.

That desire drew her in, made her feel close to him. She dreamed, secretly, of being the woman who could satisfy him. She imagined that their hearts could find a home together.

There was nothing, no one she longed for the way she longed for Dean Winchester.

When she found out that Dean would be headlining the Bourbon & Blues Festival in August in her city, Sasha knew she had to be there. It was her dream to see him perform live, to maybe even meet him.

She picked up extra shifts at the restaurant and saved money by trading Starbucks for coffee she made at home. Her coworkers teased her about the money she was saving to see Dean.

Just days before the event, she had scraped together enough money to buy a backstage pass. She had never spent this much money on a concert ticket before. Then again, she had never loved a singer like she loved Dean Winchester.

The night of the concert, Sasha dressed carefully. She wore dark wash skinny jeans and a plaid shirt over a vintage Led Zeppelin t-shirt. She took a long time applying smokey eye make-up that she knew made her dark eyes look gorgeous, and teased her dark curls into thick waves. She finished the look with heeled boots and plenty of jewelry.

Dean Winchester’s concert was the most amazing experience of Sasha's life. From the moment he strode on stage on long bowlegs, wearing his usual double denim and bandanna around his neck, the air felt electric.

Then he leaned into the microphone and launched into a song. Sasha felt goosebumps sweep over her body. Watching concert videos was nothing like seeing him perform live. In-person, he radiated an irresistible sex appeal. The longing she felt for him, from him, was almost unbearable.

She was caught up in the moment, in the music, in the animal magnetism that was Dean. By the time he called out the last notes to the last song, she was sweaty from dancing and flushed with desire. She cooled down a little backstage as she waited for her turn for an autograph and photo op. She was surrounded by fans, women and men alike who loved Dean at least as much as she did, if not more. It was a heady atmosphere.

Finally, Sasha got to the table where Dean was standing. He was swaying a little, drunk on bourbon or adrenaline or both. He was sweaty and had loosened his bandanna around his neck. Up close, she was blown away by how gorgeous he was and how much she wanted him.

Photos were inadequate to capture his raw appeal. He signed her records and then drew her in with one strong arm for their photo op. Instead of looking at the camera, though, Dean looked at her. His eyes raked up and down her curvy body appreciatively.

"Well," he drawled after a moment. "Aren't you a sweetheart? I like a girl who likes Zeppelin."

Sasha flashed a bright smile as she felt herself blush. Was Dean really looking at her, talking to her this way? She pressed against him just a little bit closer than was appropriate for a photo with a stranger. In return, Dean slid his hand down over the curve of her ass.

That was the moment the photographer snapped, the two of them gazing at one another with undisguised desire.

After a few moments, one of Dean's handlers appeared and pulled Sasha away. After all, there were many people waiting to spend a few seconds with him.

On the sidelines, Sasha took a moment, trying to get her heart to stop racing. She had actually met Dean! And she thought for just a moment, when his luminous green eyes locked on hers, that she had seen longing reflected back. Her knees were shaking.

Someone approached, a tiny redheaded woman in a business suit who looked entirely out of place on the backstage of a blues concert.

Without saying a single word, she handed Sasha a card - the card that she now held in her hand.

It had been three days since then. Three days of reliving that night over and over in her mind, remembering what it was like to be in the audience as Dean sang and feeling like he was singing just to her. Three days of recalling his hand on her ass and his hot longing gaze, the picture that captured a moment of him wanting her as much as she wanted him.

If she wasn't serious about loving Dean Winchester, what would she ever be serious about?

Sasha picked up her cell phone one more time, but this time she dialed the number.

She didn't know what to expect. She didn't really think Dean would answer the phone himself, but she had to admit, she was a bit disappointed when she heard instead a woman's voice.

"I'm Rowena MacLeod, Dean Winchester’s personal manager," the woman said in a lilting Scottish accent. "If you're calling this number, it's because you got one of Dean's cards."

Sasha's voice trembled as she answered, "Yes.”

The woman spoke in a quick and professional tone. "Mr. Winchester is not a rock star,” Rowena explained. “He doesn't pick up groupies. After all, he has an image to protect. However, once in a while, he likes to have a weekend away. He prefers to enjoy this weekend in the company of beautiful women. Would you like to join him?"

Whatever Sasha had thought she was expecting, it wasn't this. She was speechless.

Rowena continued. "Of course I don't mean just you and Dean. Usually, his brother joins him, sometimes a friend. You would be one of a number of women there."

Sasha still couldn't find the words to respond.

"This number was for serious inquiries only. Are you in or not?"

Of course she was in! For Dean, anything. The only word she said was, "Yes."

Rowena then told Sasha to expect a package, priority mail. When it came, it looked much less like a good time and much more like a legal contract. She had to get a physical, including STD testing, provide proof she was on birth control, and agree not to make any drastic changes to her appearance. She also signed a very strict non-disclosure agreement.

She didn't care what she had to do. Whatever it took, it would be worth it for a weekend with Dean Winchester. She just wanted to get near him again.

It was September before Sasha got a call from that number. She answered and recognized the unmistakable voice of Dean Winchester's manager.

"Are you available next weekend?" she asked.

Sasha answered that she was.

She could hardly believe this was happening, could hardly comprehend that her wildest dreams of seeing Dean again were coming true.

Rowena gave her the address of a hotel in a city about an hour away.

When Friday came, Sasha drove to the hotel and checked into the room. On the king-sized bed was an envelope with her name on it. She opened it to see a single page with typed instructions to meet Rowena at a certain room at a certain time.

She unpacked her overnight bag and showered, changing from her work clothes into jeans and a t-shirt.

When the time came, she joined a number of other girls to meet Rowena and Dean's brother, Sam. She quickly realized that this was a business meeting.

Rowena and Sam laid out the rules: that every girl was there entirely for Dean's enjoyment. They were to expect a call anywhere from 10 am to 2 am, and would be expected to show up looking clean and made up. They could order room service as much as they wanted, but they were not to drink alcohol unless Dean gave them a drink.

Every one of the girls agreed to these conditions. It was quickly apparent that a couple of them had done this before.

As Sasha looked around, she began to wonder what she was doing there. The other girls looked like they had been made from the same mold: trim, athletic blondes with cute faces.

Sasha knew what she looked like. She thought of herself as striking, rather than cute. She had dark hair and eyes, wide cheekbones and full cheeks. She was average size but generously endowed, with full breasts, wide hips, and a soft belly. She knew there were certain men who found her attractive, but looking around, she began to wonder if Dean Winchester was one of them.

After the meeting broke up, Sasha returned to her room and waited. She put on makeup and turned on the TV in the background, too nervous and excited to really watch anything.

Darkness fell and the phone never rang. Sasha started to wonder if this whole thing had been a mistake. It was silly of her to think that Dean Winchester, the singer, the man of her dreams, had any interest in her.

She changed from jeans into pajamas and ordered loaded fries from room service. If nothing else, she could enjoy a few free meals while she was here.

No sooner had she gotten her food than the phone rang. She picked it up and heard, on the other end, that unmistakable voice - Dean's voice.

"Hey, sweetheart," his tone was relaxed and inviting. “Want to come on down?"

Her heart was beating so hard that she could barely answer, but she managed to stammer out a yes.

She quickly dressed again, touched up her makeup and ran a comb through her dark waves before heading down the hall. She passed one of the other girls coming back down the hall. She looked disheveled but satisfied.

She smirked at Sasha. "I hope you're ready for Dean," she said. "He's ready for you."

Sasha's heart raced at the thought. She was as ready as she could possibly be.

Sasha stood outside Dean's door, knees shaking with nervous anticipation. She longed for him, body and soul, and wanted him to want her just as much. She had no idea if he did, if he even really remembered her.

This was a wild fantasy somehow unfolding in front of her. She would never make her dreams come true if she didn't take this chance.

Sasha lifted her hand and knocked.


	2. Chapter 2

Sasha waited, her heart pounding. 

Sasha had no idea what she was doing, but she knew that Dean was on the other side of the door. She would do whatever it took to be near him again, to see his smile and know that it was for her. To feel the unmistakable desire that rolled off his body.    


Sasha heard Dean call out, "It's open, come on in." 

She opened the door to the biggest hotel suite she had ever seen, and clearly, she was just looking at the living room. Dean Winchester was sprawled in a giant leather recliner, legs spread.  
  
"Come on over," he drawled, holding out one broad hand. 

Sasha had eyes only for Dean. He was even more handsome than she remembered, hair ruffled and clothes tousled. She walked over to him and took his hand. He ran his thumb softly over the base of hers, relaxed and smiling. 

Dean's gaze raked over her body and back up to her face. He huffed out a long sigh. "Well, aren't you a pretty little thing?" A smile curled his lips. "And you're here for me."

He was a little drunk, Sasha realized; his movements and words were broad and slow. He drew her in until she stood right next to him. He looked deep into her eyes, his own hazy from pleasure or alcohol or both. 

Then he pulled Sasha onto his lap. She hesitated. It wasn't something she was used to doing, and she was unsure if she should put her full weight on his legs. Did he really want to hold her?

He wrapped strong arms around her and pulled her close. Dean smelled like sweat and whiskey and something else, something woodsy. The scent was familiar and safe. She gave in and leaned against his chest.   
  
Dean lifted one hand to Sasha's face, caressing her softly with calloused fingers. He brushed her hair back, tangling his hand in her dark curls. She felt sparks everywhere his fingers touched. He brushed her cheek and dragged his thumb over her full lower lip. 

"Hello, sweetheart," he murmured, wonder in his voice.

Sasha heard herself whimper as Dean cupped her chin in his strong grasp, his eyes fixed on her mouth. Finally, he kissed her. 

He tasted like the bourbon he had been drinking, like honey and smoke. His lips carried the hint of stolen promises.

Sasha couldn't believe this was really happening, that she was really kissing Dean Winchester. It seemed like a dream, like something so perfect it couldn't possibly be happening. Wishes didn't come true like this, not in real life, not for her.

This was the mouth that sang the music that everyone loved. These were the lips she had dreamed of, had wished for a thousand times. 

Everything about the moment was surreal. She wanted to slow it down, savor it all. Then Dean pushed her mouth open with his tongue and sucked on her bottom lip. 

Sasha moaned. Dean's kisses were just like him: somehow both soft and strong, and impossibly hot. 

She slid her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Dean ran his hands greedily down her body, over her breasts. She felt wetness flood between her legs.  
  
Feeling brave, she turned in his lap and straddled his thighs. He chuckled and ran his hot hands over her, grabbing handfuls of her ass. 

"You see something you like?" She teased, shimmying in his hands and brushing against his chest.

Dean chuckled. "Damn right."

"You see something you… want?" Sasha spoke slowly, softly. 

"Oh, yeah," Dean breathed.

She slid one hand up into his hair, ruffling it further. He grinned, and she traced the crinkles that appeared in the corners of his eyes.

Freckles dusted his cheeks and jawline. Sasha leaned forward and brushed them with tiny kisses. Dean sighed, a low sound that Sasha felt as much as heard. She let her fingers trail over his jaw and down his neck until they wandered back to his mouth. She ran her thumb over his full bottom lip.

"Either stop touchin' my mouth," Dean murmured., "Or kiss me."

She leaned in and kissed him again, and he pulled her up against him. She wanted him, wanted to be as close to him as possible. She threw caution to the wind and ground against his lap. She could feel that he was hard and he could almost certainly feel that she was wet.   
  
Dean's hands slid up over her hips and traced the waistband of her jeans. He lifted the hem of Sasha's t-shirt and cupped her hips, his palms hot against her skin. Sasha felt goosebumps rise where he touched.

Dean's eyes never left her face as his hands moved to her waist and he unfastened her jeans. Every brush of his skin on hers heightened her longing. One of his hands slipped between her legs. She whimpered as she felt her hips roll open under his touch. She tightened her grip on his shoulders and leaned back, giving him more access. 

"You're so wet." Dean shook his head. "Is that for me?"   
  
Sasha nodded. She couldn't find the words to tell him how much she wanted this, how many times she had dreamed of this, how very much she was his for the taking. 

Instead, she just managed to reply, "Yes, Dean. All for you."   
  
"Stand up," he commanded. "Take your pants off."   
  
Sasha obeyed. Then Dean reached for her and pulled her back onto his lap, his arms flexing. With her knees spread over his thighs, she was wide open. He slipped his hand between her legs again. His touch was quick and skillful. A needy moan fell from her lips, but she was confused. She gripped his strong wrist to stop him.

"Dean," she gasped. "What do you want? What do you want me to do?" 

Dean threw back his head and laughed. "Just enjoy it, sweetheart, let me enjoy you."

Sasha gave into his touch willingly, yielding to his hands on her body.  
  
Sasha savored the moment, drunk on the idea of what she was doing as well as the sheer pleasurable sensation. Dean's presence and his hands together were overwhelming. The whole experience seemed like a wild dream. 

In no time at all, she was curling into Dean's shoulder as he drew an orgasm out of her. Her world shrank to the circle of his arms. Her eyes fluttered shut and she pressed against him, stifling her moans against his neck.    
  
When she looked up, he was watching her, his green eyes bright and hungry. She knew he wanted something and she wanted to give it to him. 

“Please, let me,” she said, tugging at his belt.

Dean nodded and she slipped off his lap. She pulled her jeans back on before kneeling between his legs. He lifted his hips so she could slide down his jeans and boxers. His erection sprang into her grasp, already hard and ready.

She was going to give a blow job to Dean Winchester. She giggled in spite of herself. This wasn't a dream. It was true, wildly, improbably true. 

"Somethin' funny?" Dean reached down and stroked her cheek. She leaned into his touch.

Sasha looked up at Dean, a playful sparkle in her eyes. "Wow," she said.

Dean chuckled. "That's what all the pretty girls say."

Sasha actually laughed out loud. "I just can’t believe that this is real, that I'm really doing this."

"Oh, we're doing this, all right. 

Sasha nodded, choking back more giggles, and lowered her mouth on to him. She stopped thinking about the situation, how unreal it seemed. Instead she focused on her mouth and his cock, and the way he responded to the pleasure she gave him.

Soon Dean was breathing hard, his hips thrusting up into her mouth erratically. She sucked him harder, licking and stroking him. A hot moan escaped his lips and he winced and pressed his head back into the chair. 

She pulled back just in time for him to come on her throat.   
Sasha leaned her cheek on Dean's denim clad thigh while he caught his breath. After a moment he reached down and stroked her hair. 

"Wow," he sighed. 

Sasha looked up into his hazy eyes and smiled warmly. "Was that real enough for you?"

Dean grinned lazily and nodded. He looked sleepy, the night of partying and pleasure catching up with him.

Sasha got up. She couldn't resist running one hand over his handsome face.

Dean's eyes fluttered open. "Come back tomorrow, baby girl," he murmured. "Give me a kiss."

Sasha bent down and met his mouth with her own. She knew that this could be her last moment with Dean, that tomorrow she could wake and never hear from him again. 

She took a kiss that she would never forget before heading back to her own room and crawling into bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Sasha enjoyed sleeping in ridiculously late the next morning. Her dreams had been full of Dean. She had thoroughly enjoyed last night, but it left her wanting more.

She slipped her hand between her legs, figuring she could enjoy a little morning treat. She ran the memories of last night back through her mind, remembering Dean's hands on her body and the taste of his lips on hers. Soon, she was breathing hard, sinking deep into her memories and fantasies.   
  
Then the phone rang, and Sasha answered breathlessly. She immediately recognized Dean’s low, sleepy voice.

"Hey, sweetheart. How do you feel about pancakes?"

Had he really woken up thinking about her? Sasha was caught off guard and only managed to stammer out, "Yes."

“Yes to pancakes?" Dean chuckled. “Well, come on down. Oh, and I wanna see what you slept in."

Sasha took a quick shower and applied a little bit of makeup before slipping back into her patterned yoga pants and white tank top. She was self-conscious about the way the yoga pants hugged her thick thighs and the slight swell of her stomach; she hadn't planned for Dean to see her this way. But she would do what he asked. 

When Sasha knocked on the door, Dean swung it open eagerly. He was shirtless and wearing gym shorts slung low over his hips. Sasha’s gaze was drawn to the sleeve of tattoos that covered his left arm, starting at his collarbone and spreading down to his elbow and over his ribs. She knew he had ink, but she had never seen it all. Dean grinned and pulled her in close. She ran her fingers lightly over the patterns on his skin.

"Like what you see, sweetheart?" he drawled with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows.

Sasha nodded, looking up into his face as he lowered his mouth and kissed her. He tasted like pancake syrup and coffee. She hummed and let her lips fall open against his. Dean kissed her like she was the only woman in the world. He kissed her until she was breathless. 

Dean pulled back and looked at Sasha, a happy grin curling his lips.

"Come on, we can't let breakfast get cold." 

He took her hand and led her to the table, where it looked like he had ordered most of the room service breakfast menu. 

"I didn't know what you liked, so..." He shrugged. 

Sasha giggled. "Any of it would've been fine, thank you. But I see you took all the pancakes."

"That's okay, we can share." 

Dean sat down and pulled her on top of him. She braced herself, not quite giving in to his embrace. With one strong arm, Dean scooped up her legs so she was completely resting on his lap. He slid the other arm around her waist. Sasha relaxed into his grasp, wrapping one arm loosely around his shoulders. 

Dean used his free hand to fork up a bite of syrup-drenched pancake. He offered the first one to Sasha before taking the next one for himself. She thought the third bite, naturally, would be for her, but Dean took it at the last minute. 

Sasha pouted just a little and leaned into him, pressing her full breasts against his bare chest.    
"Dean," she said. "It's not nice to tease." 

"Oh, you mean like you're teasing me right now?"    
Dean brought one hand up and dragged his palm across her breasts. Under the thin fabric of her white tank top, Sasha's nipples instantly grew hard. She felt a rush of wet arousal between her legs.

Dean pulled his hand away from her body and picked up a piece of bacon off his plate. He ate half of it in one big bite, and then fed the rest to her. Sasha made sure to lick his fingertips when she took it from him. Dean ran his thumb over his full lower lip. It was a ridiculously suggestive gesture, and Sasha shivered just a little.   
  
Dean fixed his gaze on her, wolfish and hungry. 

"Wow, baby girl," he said."You're soakin' wet. I can feel you all the way through to my leg." 

Sasha answered, "You do that to me, Dean."   
  
He grabbed her face and kissed her, and she wrapped both arms around his neck. Dean slipped his hands around her waist, up under her tank top. He pulled it up over her head, only breaking contact with her mouth for a moment, and her breasts tumbled free. 

Dean cupped them in his hands, pushing them up and together. 

"Oh, yeah, come to Daddy," he murmured, before burying his face in her ample cleavage. 

He turned to take one nipple between his lips, licking and sucking until Sasha moaned. She ground her hips down on his lap, feeling him hard and thick between her legs.

Dean reached behind Sasha and, with one long arm, shoved everything to one side of the table. He patted the newly clear space in front of him. 

"Hop up here, sweetheart," he commanded.  
  
Sasha obeyed him.

With swift, sure motions, Dean pulled down her yoga pants and panties, running his warm palms over her legs, caressing her skin. He slid his hands up between her knees and pushed her thighs apart. 

Sasha drew in a quick breath. She leaned back, bracing herself on her elbows. She vaguely heard dishes crash as Dean lifted her legs and placed one knee on each shoulder.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned. “You're so wet!"   
  
Dean leaned his face in and tasted her, licking quickly turning to swirling and sucking and - Sasha didn't even know - she couldn't separate one touch from another, but his mouth on her felt incredibly good. 

She had woken up aroused, been interrupted by Dean's phone call, and had been nothing but turned on by him since. She was ready to get off, but Dean was taking his time. 

Every time she got close, he backed off, slowed his touch. She was breathing hard, squirming in his grasp as her whole body wound tighter and tighter with desire. 

"Please, Dean, please." She gasped.

He worked her faster with his tongue and then pressed the knuckles of his first two fingers into her, hard. The extra pressure was all it took for Sasha to come. She whined through gritted teeth as she unwound in a rush of pleasure on Dean's face. He worked her through her orgasm with steady pressure, continuing to lick her until she relaxed. 

When Sasha's eyes fluttered open, she saw Dean looking up at her. His pupils were wide, his entire body tense with desire.

"Can you stand up?" he asked.

After a moment, she nodded and slipped down to her feet. 

With firm hands on her waist, Dean spun her around to face the table and bent her over. He slipped off his own shorts while he commanded, "Spread your legs for me, pretty girl."   
  
Sasha obeyed. She braced her arms on the table, pushing more plates onto the floor, but she didn't stop to care.    
  
Dean guided his thick cock against her. Sasha tipped her hips up and leaned back to meet him. With one smooth motion of his strong thighs, Dean thrust into her and didn't stop until she had taken his full length. 

He fucked her hard, slowly at first and then faster. Her panting gasps turned into moans. Dean's breath was quick.

He leaned over her and growled in her ear, "Come for me, baby. Be a good girl and come for Daddy."   
  
He used his hand to tilt her hips up further, so he could drive in even deeper. That angle pushed her right over the edge. 

Sasha screamed, a low open scream, as Dean pounded another orgasm out of her. Her hips were still shaking when he came with a loud sigh, catching himself on his forearms before he fell on top of her. 

They both lay still, breathing hard, basking in the aftershocks of their pleasure. 

Dean’s mouth was next to Sasha’s ear. “How do you like that, sweetheart?” He murmured. In response, Sasha could only sigh. 

Dean stood up and pulled Sasha up, turning her to face him. Her knees were shaky and she slipped her arms around his neck. “You're such a good girl, going crazy for me like that,” he praised her.

Sasha smiled, still riding the high of back to back orgasms. "Dean, I can't help it. You're so good, you  _ make _ me crazy."  
  
That was what Dean wanted to hear, and a cocky grin crossed his face before he covered her face and neck with warm kisses. For just a moment, he held her. Sasha enjoying being in his embrace, his sweaty skin against hers. Then he let her go and handed her the clothing. 

"Go back to your room," he told her. "Clean up and get something to eat, get some rest. I'll call for you later."

Sasha did what Dean said, going through the motions of showering and eating, but she couldn't rest. She laid back on her comfortable bed with her mind was racing.   
  
Being with Dean Winchester had been incredible. Every single thing they had done together was better than the last, and, if Dean kept his word, they weren't done. Just being noticed by him, being this close to him, was the stuff of dreams. The fact that he was actually amazing in person, and seemed to love giving pleasure as much as he loved taking it, was a bonus. 

Still, it felt hollow. She loved Dean, felt like she had seen glimpses of his soul in his music. But he didn’t love her, he didn’t even know her. It was unfair, but it was the reality of being with a star like Dean.    
  
He had called her endearments like “baby girl” and “sweetheart”- but did he even know her name? For Sasha, being here to please Dean wasn’t enough. She didn't expect to be treated like his girlfriend or to have him all to herself. But she wanted to be more than just a pretty face and available body.

Sasha wanted, no  _ deserved _ , to be known. She had been special enough to catch his eye in the first place. She would show him just how memorable she could be. She would give what he wanted but she would get what she wanted too. She would make him see her.


	4. Chapter 4

When the phone rang that evening, Sasha was ready.

"I missed you, Dean," she cooed.   
  
Dean chuckled. "Well, sweetheart, I missed you too. You wanna come back down?"   
  
She took her time getting ready and down to his room. When she got there, he was waiting by the door.    
  
"What took you so long?" He demanded.

Sasha threw one arm around his neck and leaned into him. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him.

"Just getting ready for you, Dean."

He kissed her hungrily, impatiently, until she pulled away. She walked over to the bar in the room.

"Damn. I could sure use a drink."

Dean followed her and slipped his arms around her from behind. 

"Remember, you're talking to a former bartender here. What do you want? Cosmopolitan? Red Headed Slut?"

Sasha turned to face him."I was thinking - bourbon."

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

"Bourbon? Ok. We have Jim Beam, Woodford, Angel's Envy, Four Roses..."

"Angel's Envy sounds good."

"You like the good stuff, huh?"

"Hey, remember, you're talking to a waitress here." 

Sasha pulled out of his embrace and sat down on the couch to wait for him. She settled against the pillows in a way that was comfy but showed off her curves.

Dean walked over and handed her a drink, a double in his own hand, before sitting down next to her.

As they sipped, they began to talk, sharing stories from their years of working in the restaurant world. It was the first time they had actually had a conversation, the first time Sasha had gotten a peek at who Dean was underneath the performer. 

Restaurant stories quickly turned ridiculous. One story in particular really tickled Dean, and he threw back his head and laughed. It was the most magical laugh Sasha had ever seen; his whole body got into it, shoulders shaking, mouth open, eyes crinkling. It was an infectious laugh, so open and sexy. 

When they had both calmed down, their eyes met, and Sasha nearly jumped into Dean's arms. He tipped up her face and kissed her. She kissed him back, and their tongues slipped into one another's mouths, exploring and tasting.

"Oh, Dean," she murmured between kisses. "Your mouth is magical, just like I always dreamed it would be." Magical seemed like a silly word, but in the moment, it fit.

“You dreamed about my mouth?” Dean looked oddly abashed, a pink blush creeping across his high cheekbones. For a moment he basked in her affirmation. Then he lifted his chin, bold again.

"Dean, every girl that listens to your music dreams about your mouth."

Dean’s posture was self-assured but his eyes were longing. "Tell me more," he begged. In his face, Sasha saw the vulnerability that had drawn her to him in the first place. 

"The way you sing, it's not just your voice, it's the way your lips move."

Dean showed her, then, the way his lips could move. Sasha gasped for breath and continued.

"It's the way you grin, the way you smirk, the way your jaw is so firm and your lips are so plush."

Dean's lips were plush, indeed, pressed against her own.

Soon, Sasha had Dean pushed back against the couch pillows, straddling his lap as she pressed into him. Her hands were grasping his collar and sliding down the front of his shirt, undoing his buttons. When his shirt was open, she ran her hands over his tattooed chest.

Finally, Dean wrenched his mouth away from hers.

"What do you want, pretty girl?”

She cupped his angled jaw in one hand. "What do you want... Sasha?" she said.

A look of confusion spread across Dean's face. "Sasha?"

"Yeah, that's my name, Sasha."

"I know that," Dean mumbled, although he had the grace to look at least a little embarrassed. 

Sasha nodded, so Dean asked again.

"What do you want, Sasha?"   
She leaned in and gave him a kiss, and then trailed little wet kisses along his jawline and right up to his ear.

"I want you to fuck me, Dean," she whispered, her breath hot against the side of his face.    
"Fuck me and make me call you Daddy."    
  
Dean's tongue rolled over his lips and then he bit his bottom lip. "I think I can do that, Sasha."

He stood up quickly and half-led, half-dragged her out of the living room and into the bedroom. He let go of her just long enough to shrug out of his clothes. She tossed aside her clothing and lay back comfortably on the bed, clad in nothing but matching lacy black bra and panties.

Dean's eager gaze raked over her body. "Fuck, you're beautiful." Sasha smiled smugly. She had never known a man who could resist black lingerie. 

Dean crawled up over her, his knees on either side of her hips, and covered her mouth with hot kisses. He pushed her chin up and kissed down her neck, over her collarbone and straight between her breasts. With practiced fingers, he undid her bra and tossed it aside. He cupped her breasts in both hands and gave them his full attention. 

He squeezed and stroked them as he licked and sucked her nipples. Sasha was breathing hard. He pulled one nipple lightly between his teeth and his bottom lip, and she yelped. He did it to the other nipple, and she moaned. 

Dean brought his hips down, grinding against her panties. She could feel that he was hard and so ready. She was soaking wet and breathing fast. She grabbed for his ass to pull him in close.   
  
"Dean," she begged. "Fuck me."

She didn't have to ask twice. He wrenched off her panties and spread her knees. She tilted her hips up towards him, willing and needy. 

"Dean," she begged. "Look at me. Look at me when you fuck me."

Dean lifted his gaze to her face as he buried himself between her legs. She rocked her hips underneath him, drawing him in, encouraging him. Raw desire twisted her face. Sasha had intended to put on a show for Dean, but she didn't have to. He pushed her and filled her in a way that made her forget herself. She wanted him -  _ needed him _ \- so much. He felt so good, she couldn’t help but give in to him. 

Sasha felt her orgasm building as Dean pressed into her over and over, but she wanted to make him wait, wanted to make him work for it. She drew in deep gasping breaths, trying to slow down, to maintain control. She couldn't help the sounds that came from her mouth, small moans and cries. 

Dean reached down and lifted one of Sasha's legs, pushing her knee against her chest. At that angle, every thrust hit her g-spot. 

"Oh, Dean," she cried. Her voice rose to a scream. "Fuck, Daddy, yes!"

Her whole body pressed up against Dean as she came, wave after wave of pleasure burning through her like fire. Her hips slammed down as she tightened around him. With a deep wild moan, Dean let himself come right after her.

He rolled over when he had finished, pulling Sasha on top of him. She rested her head on his shoulder, still breathing hard. Dean ran his broad hand through her tangled dark hair. He brushed her face with his fingers and tipped her chin up.

"Wow, Sasha," he said, looking deep into her eyes. "You're really something, you know that?"

Dean's kiss was tender and deep. Sasha basked in his attention. For the first time all weekend, she felt like he was actually seeing her. She felt like she had gotten to be with the real Dean. 

And he was better than she had ever dreamed.


	5. Chapter 5

It was long past midnight when Sasha returned to her room, so she was surprised when the phone rang at 9 am. 

"Mr. Winchester wants to take you shopping." Sasha recognized Rowena's voice without an introduction. 

"Be ready out front in 20 minutes. Oh, and Sasha? He's not much of a morning person before he’s had his coffee." 

Sasha wasn't either, but she hurried to get dressed and pull her hair and makeup into decent shape. She was ready out front when the black car pulled up. 

Dean was in the back seat already, his driver behind the wheel. Sasha opened the back door and slid in next to Dean.

He was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. A baseball cap and aviator sunglasses covered most of his face.

Wordlessly, he handed her a paper cup of coffee and let his hand fall on her thigh. She took a big gulp. The coffee was warm and creamy. She reached over and laid her hand on Dean's. He laced his fingers together with hers. They sat in comfortable silence until the car pulled up outside a row of shops.

"Come on," said Dean, his voice still rough and sleepy. 

He helped Sasha out of the car and led her to the door of a boutique clothing shop. The sign on the door said  _ Jody’s. _ Below that, the hours indicated they opened at noon on Sunday, but a leggy dark-haired woman opened the door for them. 

Dean greeted her with a kiss on both cheeks. She was clearly an old friend or, Sasha thought, maybe a former girlfriend. 

The store was tastefully full of beautiful things - clothing in rainbow colors and varied textures, costume jewelry, and accessories. 

Sasha looked at a few of the blouses and cringed when she saw the price tags; nothing was less than a few hundred dollars. She turned to a table displaying scarves and bracelets. They were beautiful, but still way beyond her price range.   
  
Sasha felt Dean walk up beside her.   
  
"See something you like, sweetheart?" he asked.   
  
"Dean," she murmured, embarrassed. "It's all so expensive."   
  
He chuckled wryly. "I brought you here because I want to treat you." He slipped strong arms around her. "I want you to have something to remember me by."

Sasha turned to face him. "As if I could ever forget you, Dean." 

They kissed each other happily for a moment until they remembered where they were.

Dean led her over to the back wall, which was hung with dresses. They looked simple enough, but they were of high quality. Sasha ran her fingers over the shoulders, feeling the knits and velvet and lace. She couldn't possibly choose.

Dean pulled out a sweater dress, deep crimson with a wide cowl neck and held it up.

"You’d look so sexy in this," he said. "Come on, Sasha, just try it on." 

The shop owner led them to a dressing room and unlocked the door. Dean followed Sasha into the small room. He sat on the bench against the wall while she changed. 

Once she had the dress on, she turned slowly in front of him. There was no mirror in the dressing room, but she knew she looked good. The low cowl neck offered a peek at the top of her soft breasts. The thick knit skimmed her stomach and hugged the curves of her ass and thighs.   
  
It was obvious Dean thought so, too, because as he looked at her, his eyes lit up. 

He stood up and drew her into a deep kiss, backing her up against the wall. He leaned in close and whispered, "Let's see how it looks without underwear."   
  
Sasha looked at him, baffled.    
  
"I'm sure it's the same?" 

Dean gave her a hard look, raising one eyebrow. 

A hot flush rose up Sasha's cheeks as she realized what he meant. She shook her head slowly. 

"Please?" Dean's tone dropped low. "C'mon Sasha, do it for Daddy." 

She shivered at the sound of his voice then nodded. 

She reached out and undid first his belt and then his jeans. Dean slid his hand up her leg and pushed her panties down over her hips and to her ankles. He cupped the back of her knee and lifted one leg onto the bench. Then he slipped his hands back under the dress around Sasha's hips. He pressed against her and she whimpered. 

"Listen," he told her, "I know you don't like to, but you're gonna have to keep it down."

Sasha grabbed his neck and buried her face in his shoulder to muffle her moan as he plunged into her. Dean supported her ass and thigh with his hands, rocking her against him. 

Sasha was too nervous to get fully aroused but enjoyed the thrill of what she was doing. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined any of this. She enjoyed how much Dean wanted her, how much obvious pleasure he was getting from this.

Dean slipped his hand in between their bodies, started fingering her where she was wide open. 

Suddenly Sasha forgot about being nervous. She forgot where she was entirely. All she could think about was Dean in and on her and how good he was.

Her breath came in short, loud gasps, so Dean pressed her face into his shoulder.   
  
"Be a good girl and come for me," he murmured. "But come quietly." 

She bit her lip and curled against him, shaking hard from her orgasm and the effort of staying quiet. 

Dean pushed her harder into the wall as he came. Eventually, he eased off of Sasha and she lowered her foot to the floor. The dress was a sweaty mess.

"Dean," she giggled."Now you have to buy this dress."  
  
Dean shook his head. "I was always gonna buy you the dress. Change back and come pick out some jewelry to go with it."

When they were ready to check out, Dean dropped a whole pile of things on the counter - the dress, another top, a scarf, and several different glittery bracelets.

The shop owner took in his smug expression and Sasha's flushed cheeks. She raised her dark brows. 

"Dean Winchester." She scolded. "Some things never change."

"Aw, Jody, come on," was all that Dean could say. 

The total at the end shocked Sasha, but Dean paid it without blinking.

When they got back into the car, she sat close to him. He threw his arm around her.

"I don't want this weekend to end," she finally confessed.

He looked deep into her eyes, a soft smile curling his lips. He kissed her, drawing her close into his arms, as the car pulled up to the hotel. 

"I've gotta go, baby girl, and you need to go home. But thank you for a good weekend."

Sasha closed her eyes and let herself enjoy Dean's embrace. She gave him one more kiss before she whispered, "Thank  _ you _ , Dean."


	6. Chapter 6

It had been the best weekend of Sasha's life and she couldn't tell a single person. Not that anyone would believe her if she did. 

The idea that she, a random waitress, had spent a sex-filled weekend with chart-topping blues singer Dean Winchester? It was unbelievable.

When her coworkers asked her where she had been, she just told them she had been with a friend. She almost let the truth slip, just once. 

She had been doing shots with her friend Lee, the bartender at work. He was teasing her about her crush on Dean and she said something just a little too familiar. Lee never asked her more about it, though. Sasha hoped her words were lost in the blur of alcohol. 

Sometimes even she wondered if the whole weekend had really happened. In those moments, she went to the back of her closet and pulled out the bag that said  _ Jody's _ . 

Dean Winchester was her secret fantasy; a fantasy that had, however impossibly, come true. Her weekend with him had been an intense experience entirely outside her ordinary life. Dean had been even better than her wildest dreams. 

Before, listening to Dean's music was amazing; now, hearing it was visceral. She couldn't hear him sing without also hearing him murmur her name. She couldn't watch a video of him on stage without her mind replaying a much more intimate reel of images. She couldn't even see a picture of his handsome face without thinking of his lips on hers. 

A month of not hearing from Dean passed until one day in late October her phone rang with a number she recognized immediately. Her heart leaped into her throat and she could barely answer. 

"Sasha," Rowena greeted her with her typical professional tone. "Dean would like to see you next weekend. Same hotel."

Sasha had hardly dared to hope that Dean had remembered her, too, but this was proof. She waited impatiently for the next weekend. Then she drove the short distance to the hotel.

When Sasha got to her room, a dozen red roses waited on the dresser. When she opened the card, she saw in block letters:

_ Sweetheart   
_ _ Baby Girl   
_ _ Sasha  
_ _ xo, Dean _

The terms of endearment, followed by her name, lit Sasha's eyes with a smile. The surprise made her feel so special. 

Just like before, there was also a note from Rowena with a room number and time. This time, there were fewer girls than before.

At the end of the meeting, Rowena approached Sasha and told her to rest and eat. She would be heading out later to meet Dean, who was with his brother Sam.

"Oh, and Sasha," said Rowena. "Look in the closet."

Sasha went to her room and straight to the closet. She hadn't looked before but instantly saw another bag with the distinctive  _ Jody's  _ logo. 

She pulled out a deep red top and a short black leather skirt, as well as a package of tights. She wasn't sure if Dean had picked it out for her, but she knew she would look amazing. 

Sasha ordered room service and got dressed. Resting was impossible when she knew she would be seeing Dean later that night. Instead, she fidgeted, curling her thick dark hair, putting it up, then letting it down again. 

As she expected, once she was dressed in her new outfit, she looked killer.

The top had long sleeves and dipped low in the front, showing off the soft rise of her breasts. It was partly open in the back, above her bra, and crisscrossed all the way up to the nape of her neck. The skirt fit perfectly, curving around her hips and tucking in under her generous ass. The tights were a little sheer and a little shimmery. She finished the outfit with her own short, black boots, the ones that she had worn to the memorable concert when she first met Dean. 

It was already dark when Rowena rang her room and told her to get downstairs. Dean's driver was waiting with his familiar black SUV to take her to a blues club on the edge of town.

He handed her off to the hostess, who led her to a table in the shadows of the corner. The Winchester brothers were already seated there. 

Dean and Sam were deep in discussion, their hands on each other's shoulders and their faces next to one another's ears. Sasha stood for a moment, waiting for them to notice, but they were too engrossed in conversation. Finally, she slid into the booth next to Dean, making sure he got a generous brush of her body. 

When Dean turned and saw Sasha, his entire face lit up. His green eyes sparkled and a grin curved his full lips, pushing dimples into his scruffy cheeks. 

"Hi, sweetheart," he said, pulling her into his lap with a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned into his embrace. 

"Sam," he told his brother. "Look who's here!" 

Sam nodded before he and Dean quickly resumed their hushed discussion. For a few minutes, Sasha was happy just to be with Dean again, basking in his closeness, but soon she wanted his attention.

She reached for Dean's tumbler of whiskey and took a cautious sip. 

"Damn, boys!" she exclaimed. "We're drinking the good stuff tonight, huh?"

Sam glanced at her quickly before he answered. "Yeah, Blanton's." 

He paused and looked at Sasha again. Dean had his face buried in the curve of her shoulder and his arms around her waist. He brushed aside her tangle of dark hair and nuzzled a line of kisses up her neck. 

"Dean," said Sam. "Why don't we ask her?"

Dean shook his head firmly, which only served to make Sasha more curious. 

"Ask me what?" she wondered aloud, turning to face Dean.

Dean answered reluctantly. "They want me to sing."

Sasha's face shone with delight. "Yes, Dean, sing!" she said, clapping her hands together eagerly. 

He shook his head again, more slowly. 

Sasha pouted, flashing him a teasing glance from under her thick lashes. "Please?" She begged. Then she leaned in close so her lips brushed his ear and he was the only one who heard her whisper, "Sing for me, Daddy."

Dean drew in a long breath, pursed his lips, and nodded. "Fine, Sam. Tell them I'll sing. But only one song!" 

He waved his hand and Sam jumped up to go discuss the logistics with someone. 

Dean pulled Sasha closer and kissed her hard, running his hands up her back and into her hair. 

"You're trouble, you know that?"

She just grinned and kissed him back. 

When Sam returned, he brought a fresh round of drinks and Sasha moved away from Dean a little. She watched Dean as he shifted into performance mode. 

She was fascinated by the change that came over him. He ran his big hands a few times along the tops of his thighs as if to reassure himself. He grabbed his drink and threw back his head, swallowing the pricey bourbon in one gulp. For just a moment he closed his eyes. 

Then the lead singer of the house band announced his name from the stage in the corner. When Dean stood up, he was _ on. _

Dean Winchester, blues star, was here. With long strides, he crossed the room to the stage, grabbed the microphone and greeted the audience. He glanced across the crowded room and his eyes locked on Sasha's. 

"Hey there,” he greeted, holding her gaze. “I've got a new song I've written for you."

Sasha felt a shiver of anticipation bolt through her. It sounded like Dean was talking only to her. Even if he wasn't, she could imagine that he was.

One of the band members handed Dean an acoustic guitar. He played around, getting a feel for the instrument before finally strumming the opening notes of his song.

_ All gone is here today  
_ _ Finding room to breathe  
_ _ Go on, be on your way  
_ _ And see  
_ _ And though the sounds of someday  
_ _ May be home _

Dean and a single acoustic guitar had a raw, open sound that reminded Sasha of his very earliest forays into music, before he made an album. In-person, it was overwhelmingly intimate. Even in a room full of people, Sasha felt like Dean was singing just to her.

_ Even the fires on the road  
_ _ Trying to get away  
_ _ And all the stars seem on a roll  
_ _ Out of control today _

Dean's voice washed over her, as it always had, like a wave of emotion. A chasm of longing opened in Sasha, caught in her throat and reached straight to her soul. The visceral ache that he drew from her – she was breathless just listening to him.

This was the raw vulnerability that had drawn her to Dean from the first time she heard him. Tears filled her eyes. When she heard him sing like this, she thought there was nothing on earth she could desire more.

_ And though the sounds of someday  
_ _ May be home _

Sasha could feel his gaze on hers all the way across the room as he held the last high note. The song ended and everyone around her clapped. 

She felt like she was in a daze, her heart still hanging on the words that Dean had sung. He made his way slowly back to the table, stopped every few feet by excited fans who wanted to talk or hug or take a picture. 

Sasha could've been jealous, but all she could think was, he was coming back to her. 

When Dean reached her, he wrapped her in his strong embrace. His words were low and sweet, for her alone.

"Hey, baby girl, what did you think?"

Held in Dean's arms, Sasha looked deep into his eyes and blinked back her tears. At the moment, she didn't have the words to express everything she was feeling. 

She lifted her lips to his for a deep, grateful kiss. "Thank you," she murmured. 

The house band started to play again, a slow song. Dean took Sasha's hand and pulled her out onto the dance floor. She shouldn't have been surprised to find that he could dance, too, leading her perfectly in time with the music. 

Pressed closely into his arms, she soon forgot about the music. All she cared about was Dean and being near him. He was as eager for her as she was for him, pulling her close. His hot hands slid over her body, over her waist and then down further to cup her ass. 

She tangled her hands in his hair. They kissed deeply, lost to the world around them.

"Sasha," Dean murmured. "I've missed you."

Sasha let her eyes flutter closed, enjoying the moment. She pressed against Dean and could feel through his jeans that he was already hard. She rocked her hips and Dean pulled her in closer. He slid one hand down her leg and pulled her knee up. 

She wrapped her leg around his and ground against him. Dean hummed against her lips.

Sasha melted into the welcome sensation of his body on hers. Everything Dean was expressing tonight, his talent and his desire for her, only made her want him more. Dean was magic, and she had fallen completely under his spell.

The band began to play a new song and Sasha suddenly remembered how many people were all around them.

"Dean," she gasped, putting her heel firmly back on the floor.

"Come on," he answered. "Let's get out of here."

Dean took her hand and led her outside to the lot where his SUV was parked. He knocked on the door, startling his driver who was peacefully reading. 

"Get out," Dean told him firmly.

Dean flung open the back door and helped Sasha onto the seat before sliding up himself and closing the door. 

She grabbed for his belt while he pushed up her skirt to pull off her tights, his eager hands shredding the delicate material. He pushed Sasha down and lifted her leg up onto the back of the seat. She braced her other foot on the floor, wide open and ready for Dean. He didn't need any further invitation. He slotted his hips between her thighs and ground up against her. 

Sasha whimpered, "Please."

Dean rocked into her, pushing steadily in and out until she had taken him all in. His strong thrusts knocked Sasha up against the door. She put her hands up to brace her head, which gave her leverage to meet Dean's body with hers.

He set a pounding rhythm, and she shimmied her hips under him. He quickly pushed her to a place where she was panting and moaning. Dean was breathing hard too. As his hips met hers over and over, Sasha felt herself give in. 

Dean's voice and his body on hers was everything she had ever needed. She bucked up against him, his name falling from her lips in a ragged moan as she came. Dean thrust into her a few more times, his pace stuttering. A long sigh crossed his lips as he came.

For a few minutes, they lay tangled, content with being together again. 

They sat up and pulled their clothes on and Dean called his driver back. As they rode to the hotel, they stayed wrapped in one another's arms, not wanting any distance between them. 

Dean kissed Sasha and then asked, "What did you think of my new song?"

"I don't only like you because you can sing. But damn, do I like that you can sing!" she answered. "And when you sing like that, Dean, oh, you make me feel-" Sasha didn't quite have the words to express all the emotions that Dean could stir up in her heart. 

"Feel like this?" He teased her with a deep kiss. Sasha nodded and sank into his embrace.


	7. Chapter 7

When they got back to the hotel, Dean and Sasha stumbled out of the car, two people lost in their own world. Sasha was carrying her boots, her tights long since gone. As they passed a mirror in the hotel lobby, Sasha got a glimpse of their reflections. 

Dean’s arm was slung over her shoulder, and her hands were wrapped around his waist, their bodies pressed together. They were both flushed and rumpled and entirely happy. 

Back in Dean’s room, he sank down onto the couch with a happy sigh. He was crashing from the adrenaline of performing, from the whiskey wearing off, and the sex. Sasha handed him a bottle of water while she fixed him a bourbon and coke. 

She settled on Dean’s lap as she handed Dean the drink. Dean downed the water and the cocktail in short order and soon perked back up. ****

He caressed Sasha’s face. “My sweetheart, so sexy,” he said. “All mine. Let’s go to bed.“

In the bedroom, they pulled off their clothes and Sasha pushed Dean back on the bed.

"Let me,” she told him. 

He settled himself against the pillows while she straddled his hips. She ground down on him teasingly, dragging her wet folds up and down on his hard length. All the while she played with her hair and shimmied her shoulders, shaking her full breasts. Naked, she was a magnificent sight, soft and ripe and all for him. 

Dean warned her, “Don’t tease." 

She wanted to tease; she loved to tease him, but she also wanted to enjoy his body. She lowered her hips to take him in, setting a strong, easy pace that pulled her almost off his cock every time before sliding back down to take him all in. The friction between their bodies was perfect, pushing both of them closer to release. Her hips shimmied and her stomach flexed as she rode him. 

Dean could’ve watched her all night, but he wanted more of her. He put his hands on her waist and pulled her down, holding her close. He met her body with his own, pushing into her. 

Sasha focused on his breathing, listening as it quickened. 

Dean reached up and pulled her shoulders down, pressing her chest to his. He thrust into her deeper and Sasha began to moan in his ear. 

"Sasha,” he panted. “Are you going to be a good girl and come for me?”

Sasha nodded. She stopped thinking about Dean and what he wanted, stopped thinking at all as her orgasm rose up inside her.

Wordless moans fell from her lips. The length of her body shuddered against his. Dean thrust up into her a few more times. Finally, Dean bit his lower lip, tossed his head, and came, throbbing deep and hot inside her. 

Sasha let herself relax and lean against his chest. Dean wrapped an arm around her shoulders gratefully. For a few moments, all she could hear was his heart beating hard and his breath gradually evening out. 

She could’ve spent all night in Dean’s arms, his skin warm against hers. She knew the rules - no girls stayed overnight in Dean’s room. She knew she could fuck Dean Winchester but didn’t get to actually sleep with him. Still, a girl could dream. She closed her eyes and pretended, for just one moment, that she wasn’t one of several girls all here for Dean. She imagined that she was really Dean’s girlfriend and that she belonged by his side, in his bed.   
  
It was a bittersweet dream. Sasha was happy to be there, in Dean’s arms, cuddling after sex. But she knew it wasn’t real, it wouldn’t last. A sigh escaped her lips. 

Dean brushed the top of her head with a kiss. “Go to your room and get some rest,” he told her.   
  
She got up reluctantly and pulled on her clothes. She took her time, hoping that Dean would change his mind, hoping that he would ask her to stay. Finally she looked at him, her eyes wide with longing. “Dean-” she began. 

He covered her mouth with a soft kiss. “I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

The phone in Sasha’s room woke her up late the next morning.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean said, his voice still rough from sleep. 

Sasha was happy to hear from him first thing, but she still felt a little cheated that she wasn’t waking up next to him.

"How about some breakfast? Wear your pajamas, just like last time.“

Sasha shivered when she thought about last time. She had anticipated his request and chosen pajamas with more care. She had slept in a pair of tiny satiny shorts and a tank top. 

She took a shower just to wake up, then put the shorts back on, without underwear, and swapped the tank top for a stretch lace bra. She wrapped herself in the matching robe before heading down the hall to Dean’s room.

The door was unlocked, and Sasha let herself in. There was no breakfast on the table, in fact, no sight or smell of breakfast anywhere. She wandered into Dean’s room to find him still in bed.

He was sexier than hell when he had just woken up, his hair all standing on end and his lips pouty. He also wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Sasha’s eyes roamed appreciatively over his inked skin.

"Hey,” she said, a little confused. “Where’s breakfast?”

Dean held out one hand to beckon her over, and she went to him. With Dean right in front of her, Sasha forgot about being disappointed that they had spent the night apart. She forgot about everything but being close to him, wanting him again.

He undid her robe and nodded approvingly when he saw her tiny lace top. He pulled her down on top of himself and kissed her before he answered. 

“Sasha, you’re the only thing I want for breakfast. I’ve been thinking about you, how good you taste. I want to make you come on my face." 

Sasha giggled and settled down on Dean’s lap. "That sounds better than breakfast any day.”

Dean rolled her over on the bed and then pulled her down to the end. Sasha relaxed in his strong grasp, letting him move her and handle her body however he wanted. 

Dean pulled off her rumpled satin shorts and let out a hot sigh when he saw that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. 

Sasha rolled her hips open and that was all the invitation he needed. He sank to his knees at the end of the bed and buried his head between her thighs. He started slowly, licking Sasha with long dragging strokes of his thick tongue, before switching to quick flicking motions. Then he sucked on her with his full lips. 

Sasha moaned. She thought there was no way Dean had been as good as she had remembered. Turns out he was better. Memory and thought deserted her under his steady attention. 

Her world shrank until she was nothing but her body, animal and needy. Her body shrank until she was nothing but coiled heat where Dean’s mouth was on her. Then she was coming, moaning, in a wave of fire.

When Sasha opened her eyes, Dean was stretched out next to her, stroking her hair and grinning. 

“Better than breakfast?” he asked, a wicked glint in his green eyes. 

Sasha nodded. “Yeah, but now I’m definitely hungry for food.“ 

Dean waved his hand at the phone. "Order room service." 

Sasha rolled away from him to call for breakfast, Dean adding items to the order until she hung up. She looked up to see him watching her, his green eyes fixed on her hungrily.

She raised her eyebrows in a silent question.

"Sweetheart, you ordering all that food with your pretty mouth is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. Come here.” He opened his arms again and she leapt into his grasp.

Dean kissed her eagerly, deeply. Sasha sighed and leaned against him. She felt so safe with him, wrapped in his arms. This was a moment she never wanted to end. 

They were interrupted by a knock at the door, letting them know their food was here. Dean pulled on his pajama pants and a t-shirt while Sasha put her robe back on. 

Dean brought the food back into the bedroom and spread all the plates out. He and Sasha leaned back against the pillows, talking and eating and laughing and talking some more. 

As much as Sasha loved sex with Dean, she might’ve loved this more. She treasured the moments when he wasn’t a star - when he was just a person. Moments when she got to see who he really was and show him just a little bit more of herself. 

It was early afternoon before Dean asked, “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

Sasha answered him quickly, “You, I hope.”

Dean nodded. “Well, yeah but, you know, you’re not the only girl here.”

Sasha knew that, of course. It was ridiculous to pretend that Dean Winchester was here all for her. She knew that there were other women that he wanted, who wanted him. It still hurt to hear him say it, and she shuddered.

“Really, Dean?” she cried, leaning away from him.

“No – wait, sweetheart,” Dean reached for her hand. She slipped out of his grasp and slid to her feet. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Sasha whirled to face him, her eyes flashing. “You didn’t mean that I’m just another girl, that I’m replaceable to you? Fine.” Her words trailed over her shoulder as she headed out of the room. “Find another girl." 

The slam of the door cut off whatever Dean was going to say. Sasha was shaking as she stormed down the hall. 

Back in her room, she bolted the door before sinking down on the bed. She took a deep breath, prepared to cry, but she was too angry. She was mad at Dean for what he had said, of course, deeply hurt by his easy dismissal.

Worse, though, Sasha was mad at herself. She had allowed herself to believe the fantasy that there was actually something between her and Dean. 


	8. Chapter 8

The phone rang but Sasha ignored it, too caught up in her churning thoughts. How had she imagined that she was more to Dean than just another pretty face and available body? How had she allowed herself to fall for him so hard?

She stood up and grabbed her suitcase. She may as well leave if things were over with Dean. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to stick around if he was going to treat her so poorly.

Sasha heard a knock at the door. She knew there was only one person it could be. She opened it reluctantly, keeping the bar across the door, and stared up at Dean, her lips tight.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he blurted.

Sasha lifted one eyebrow. “That’s a good start,” she answered.

“Can I come in?” He asked softly. She nodded and pulled the door open. Sasha sank down on the bed, arms crossed, letting Dean pace back and forth in front of her. She waited for him to speak.

“I was thoughtless,” Dean said. “It was selfish of me to even think of saying that to you. I want you to know that when you left, I picked up the phone and couldn’t think of calling anyone but you. I don’t think you’re replaceable. But I’ve treated you like you were. I’ve been acting like an asshole.”

Sasha couldn’t help the little smile that turned up the corners of her mouth. Dean pushed one freckled hand through his thick hair.

“Sasha,” he continued, encouraged by her softening face, “You’re really somethin’ special. I thought we had a good thing going, and I’d like- I’d like you to give me another chance.”

Sasha nodded slowly. “I deserve better, Dean,” she told him.

“I know,” he answered. “I’m going to give you better, sweetheart. What do you want? Ask for anything, it’s yours.”

Sasha couldn’t begin to ask Dean for all that she wanted from him. But she had an idea. “Dean,” she answered. “I want to go on a date.”

“What?” Dean asked. “This whole weekend is a date.”

Sasha shook her head. “Not really. This is an arrangement. The rules, the paperwork, the secrecy. Is that a date to you?”

Dean shrugged, leaned back against the dresser, and started to talk. “When I started touring, well, girls were throwing themselves at me.” That cocky smile crossed his face for just a moment before he shook those memories away.

“Sam and Rowena didn’t love that idea. You know Rowena, always has to be in control of things. And my brother with that big lawyer brain of his. They cooked up this plan and I, well, I didn’t complain.”

“I want to go on a date like I’m a girl you really like,” Sasha insisted.

“It has been a few years since I got to take a girl on an actual date. And-” Dean grinned at Sasha. “It’s been longer than that since I’ve been out with someone I liked as much as you.”

Sasha shook her head. “Dean Winchester, you’d be in a lot more trouble if you weren’t so handsome. You really like me?”

“Of course, I like you,” Dean held out a hand and pulled Sasha to him. He lifted her face with one hand and kissed her, full and deep.

“Where should we go on our first date?” he asked playfully.

Sasha giggled. The first thing that came to mind was the cheesiest date night place she could think of. “Take me to Olive Garden.”

Surprisingly, Dean didn’t hate the idea. It turned out that he was a big fan of their endless breadsticks. So he called his driver and took Sasha to Olive Garden, where they waited for a table like a regular couple on a first date. Dean was wearing a thick shawl neck cardigan, a wide scarf, and sunglasses, making him mostly unrecognizable. Sasha was dressed like usual, in a leather jacket over a plaid shirt over a rocker t-shirt.  
  
When the waitress came by with the wine of the day, Dean set down his sunglasses and requested a bottle to share. When it came time to order food, he got the endless soup and salad, a sampler platter of appetizers, a custom pasta, and, also, lasagna. 

Sasha just asked for an extra plate.

”Dean,” she asked, “Is anyone else joining us on this date? Maybe, several hungry people?” 

Dean shook his head and pursed his lips, fidgeting with his napkin for a moment before he looked back up at her.

“We didn’t always have enough to eat when I was growing up. If there was food, Sam ate first. I went to bed hungry lots of nights. That’s one of the reasons I started working in restaurants, there’s always something to eat. And now that I have at least a little money, I want to make sure there’s always food.”

Dean’s words tugged on Sasha’s heart. “I didn’t know that, Dean,“ she said softly.

“Well, it’s not exactly the sort of thing you share with just anyone.” He shrugged. 

“Not even for the all-American, rags to riches success story of Dean Winchester, rockstar?” Sasha’s words were light but her tone was tender, thinking about Dean ever wanting for anything.

Dean grinned, a little abashed. “I don’t know who that is. I’m just a bartender who loves music. I got lucky because I have a handsome face and a decent voice.”

Sasha grinned back at him. “And I’m just a waitress who saw a chance at the dream of a lifetime, and here I am.”

“Look at us,” said Dean. “Maybe neither one of us belongs here at all.” 

The longing in his voice flew straight to Sasha’s heart. She got up and slid into his side of the booth next to him. He drew her in close.

She looked up at him. “Maybe this is exactly where we belong, just a bartender and a waitress enjoying our improbably good luck, and our first date. Maybe we belong together.”

Dean kissed Sasha, their lips meeting softly. “Maybe,” he whispered, hopefully.

Dean might’ve been enjoying the ordinary guy act for a few hours, or maybe he just really liked unlimited breadsticks, Sasha wasn’t sure. He relaxed and flirted for all the world like this really was a date. Their hands tangled together and their feet brushed together under the table.

This way, Sasha could pretend that she and Dean were really a couple. She could pretend that this wouldn’t all end tomorrow. Before long, Dean was kissing her again hungrily, his arms around her drawing her close.

"Dean,” Sasha said. “We’re in an Olive Garden.”

“I don’t care,” he answered. “I want you. I need you.”

A shiver shot through Sasha, straight through her core. “I want you too,” she answered.

Dean threw cash on the table, enough money to cover their meal four or five times over before he stood up and took Sasha’s hand. He quickly led her out of the restaurant and to his car. They slid into the back seat and the driver headed back to the hotel.

Dean pulled Sasha to him, kissing her deeply.

“Dean,” she murmured against his lips. “I wasn’t done with my cheesy pasta.”

Dean’s laughter was rich and golden. “Sweetheart, what if I told you I had something for you that was better than cheesy pasta?”

Sasha laughed and kissed him back.

Back in the hotel room, Dean continued the act of pretending that this was an ordinary date, that they hadn’t already fucked each other silly all over the hotel room.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asked, his green eyes looking deep into hers.

“Yes, please,” Sasha answered. She leaned into him, wrapping her hands around his neck and running her fingers up into his hair.

Dean cupped her face and kissed her softly, sweetly. As his mouth pressed into hers, she let her mouth fall open. Dean slipped his tongue between her lips and kissed her deeper, strong and searching.

Finally he pulled away to ask, “Can I take your clothes off?”

Sasha shimmied in his grasp.

Their fingers went to work on buttons and buckles and Dean pressed Sasha into the bedroom as he stripped her.

Sasha lay back on the bed, naked and eager for Dean. He slid next to her, stretched out on the bed. He ran one big hand over her hips and down her thighs, easing them apart. His face was hungry and his eyes were hazy with lust.

“Can I fuck you?” he growled.

Sasha shivered with anticipation. She couldn’t keep up the playful act, though. Too much had happened today, too many things had been said. She wanted Dean - no, needed him. She needed the close intimacy of seeking and finding and losing control in one another.

She put one hand against his lips to quiet him and simply answered, “Yes.”

Dean grinned widely.

He reached between her legs, stroking Sasha with quick, sure fingers. She sighed and pressed down into his palm. In no time at all, she was wet and breathing hard.

“Please,” she panted.

Dean rolled on top of her as she spread her knees, open and ready for him. He thrust into her with a slow rocking motion and she rocked her hips under him, taking him in, encouraging him to go deeper.

Once he was fully seated inside her, Dean began to fuck her with a slow, powerful rythmn. Every drag out and thrust in pushed her farther and farther into pleasure, into a place where she forgot everything but the feeling of him.

Time slowed and there was nothing in the world for Sasha but her and Dean, and the way their bodies were moving together to find one another. She was waiting, searching, savoring every moment.

Then suddenly she was frantic, desperate for release. Her breath quickened and her nails dug into Dean’s shoulders. She arched her back and ground down on his hips with hers, seeking that rush.

She whined, hot cries falling from her lips in time with his rocking thrusts. He responded by pounding into her harder, faster. She finally came in a blaze of heat, letting out a wild broken cry as she got what she wanted, needed.

Dean felt her clamp down on him and couldn’t hold back. With one last shove, he buried himself deep, as if he could disappear inside her. He bit back a moan and pressed his face into the pillow above her shoulder as he came.

For a long moment they just lay there in the tangled sheets, trying to hold onto the moment when they had gotten lost in one another together. They clung to the rawness, the closeness of what they shared.

Every other night, Sasha had left, returned to her room. Tonight, though, Dean grabbed onto her and held her close. He rolled onto his side, curling Sasha against him. She cuddled back into his warm body but was waiting for the moment when he would send her away.

“Stay with me,” Dean whispered, his breath hot against her neck. “Please.”

Somehow he had known, had understood what she wanted most. He didn’t have to ask her twice.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean Winchester was a deep sleeper, and a handsy one. Sasha spent most of the night being grabbed and hugged and held by him. Sometime after the sun rose, he fell asleep on his back. She curled against him, her arm across his chest and her leg thrown across his thighs. 

That was how Sasha woke up, her cheek resting on Dean’s warm chest. His big hand was stroking her face, tangling in her hair. She was afraid to open her eyes, afraid that when she did, it would all disappear. 

“Dean,” she whispered hesitantly.

His hand was still there, fingertips caressing her cheekbones and trailing down to her chin. Then his lips were there, kissing hers. 

“Sasha,” he answered, his voice low.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at Dean’s gorgeous face. This was real, he was real, and she was really with him. Yesterday felt like a dream.

“Did we really do all that? Fight and then go on a date and then- ?”

Dean’s plush lips curled into a smug smile. “Well, I have you here in bed with me so, yes.”

Sasha let her eyes close and snuggled in closer to Dean. She couldn’t forget that the weekend was almost over and she would have to leave. 

After that, what? What did yesterday really mean for the two of them? Were they together, or would the fantasy end with the weekend? Sasha pushed the thoughts away, determined to enjoy this moment.

Dean lowered his mouth to hers in a deep kiss. “In case you’ve forgotten what we did yesterday, I’d be happy to remind you.” He cupped her chin in his hand, running his eyes over the curves and angles of her face before bringing her lips up to meet hers again.

She hummed happily against his mouth, enjoying the closeness of the moment. 

“Sasha,” said Dean, “You’re really something, you know that?”

Sasha shook her head. This kind of conversation could only end in him letting her down gently. She wanted to enjoy Dean as long as she had him. 

Her eyes were drawn, as usual, to the tattoo sleeve that covered his arm and part of his chest. She leaned her head against his shoulder and traced the inked lines on his skin. 

“Dean,” she begged. “Tell me about your tattoos.”

Dean curved his arm around her waist and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Which tattoos, sweetheart?" 

Sasha ran her fingers over the largest figure on Dean’s bicep. It was a mirrored image of a playing card Queen of Hearts. The top woman was an angel, with a beautiful face, wings, and a halo. The flipped image was a demon, with a skull for a face. 

"Tell me about this one,” she said.

“My Queen of Hearts? She represents desire. When I’m doing what I love, it’s heavenly. When I can’t do what I need, I feel like I’m dying inside." 

Sasha nodded. She understood, lying in Dean’s arms, an awful lot about desire. 

"What about this one?” Her fingers traced a symbol under his collarbone, the outline of a star in a sunburst. 

“It’s a family thing. My brother Sam has one too.” Dean’s tone was clipped.

Sasha waited, but when it became obvious he wasn’t going to say any more about that, she moved on. Her fingers trailed over a line of musical notes that wrapped above Dean’s elbow. “And this?

Dean grinned. "That was one of my first songs. I actually wrote it in high school. I reworked it into one of the songs on my second album.”

Sasha cupped his jaw in one hand. “I love your tattoos, Dean, I love them because they show me you.” She kissed him, warm and soft. He kissed her back, warm and eager. 

Eventually, Dean spoke. “Baby girl, waking up next to you is delicious, but Daddy still needs some coffee.”

Sasha giggled. “I could go for coffee.”

Dean ordered coffee and pastries. He pulled on blue jeans to answer the door. Sasha pinned up her hair before picking up his soft blue denim shirt and buttoning it over her breasts.

Dean brought the coffee back and settled down next to Sasha, teasing her about her frothy drink.

“What is it?” he asked. “A pumpkin spice latte? Some lavender creme brulee crap?”

Sasha giggled. “Hey, it’s the little things in life. Besides, what are you drinking, something dark and bitter?”

"Americano. That’s espresso and water, in case you don’t know.”

“Of course I know, Dean. Waitress, remember? And my guess was spot on.”

Dean threw back his head and laughed, that magical full-body laugh that Sasha found irresistible. 

The two of them were too wrapped up in one another to hear the door to the suite open. 

Suddenly, Sam appeared in the bedroom doorway. “Wanna go-”

The words died on his lips as he registered the cozy scene before him. Dean was shirtless, leaning against the pillows, and Sasha sat next to him, wearing his shirt. Sasha’s chin almost brushed Dean’s shoulder. He was looking down at her like she was the only woman in the world, his eyes locked on her face. The two of them weren’t even touching, but Sam could see the intimacy between them. 

Sam’s eyes widened. “Oh, hell, Dean. Sorry.” He ducked out quickly. 

Sasha rolled her eyes at the interruption, but it had definitely thrown off the illusion of waking up in bed together, for all the world like a real couple. She was suddenly reminded that her time with Dean was limited. 

She kept waiting for him to say something, anything, so she didn’t have to go. She kept hoping that he would tell her this weekend was different. She thought she meant more to him than just a few days of hot sex. Still, he never mentioned it.

With every moment that passed, Sasha felt sadder. She felt that uniquely painful longing of knowing she would miss him even though he wasn’t gone yet. She needed a moment to gather her spinning thoughts.

“Hey, Dean,” she said, trying to act casual. “I usually like to shower in the morning." 

She knew where the bathroom was but Dean led her there anyway. He turned on the shower, making sure it was warm before he left. 

Sasha stripped and stepped into the expansive gleaming shower, under the generous spray. She was sore and bruised in unexpected places from her weekend with Dean. She let the hot water ease her aching muscles as she soaped up with the body wash she found there.

She was letting the last soap bubbles slip through her fingers when the shower door opened. Dean stood there, looking her up and down as if he had never seen her naked before. He was undressed and his cock twitched to attention as Sasha cupped her breasts in her own hands.

"You going to join me?” she asked. “I’m just rinsing off.”

Dean stepped in with her. The shower had plenty of room for both of them but he slid right behind her, pressing close against her generous ass. 

“Let me help you,” he said, running his hands over her wet curvy body. 

He grabbed her waist, pulling her back to him in a firm grip. She tilted her hips up against him and he pressed between her legs. Dean bent her over with a hand on her shoulder, but the water hit her face, and Sasha sputtered. Dean reached up to adjust the spray and let Sasha brace herself against the wall.

Dean reached around her with one hand and began to stroke her. She spread her legs farther and he thrust into her. 

Sasha wanted Dean so badly, wanted everything he had to give her. She also wanted this to last, but she couldn’t, not with Dean’s big hand and thick cock working her over, inside and out. She let her head drop forward against the cool shower wall as she began to moan. 

Dean picked up his pace and her moans grew loud and wild, echoing off the shower walls. She pressed her ass hard back against Dean as she came. Her knees shook and he held her up, kept thrusting into her harder and faster. Dean couldn’t resist Sasha, not when she was so blatantly needy for him. He bent forward, sinking his teeth into the soft skin of her shoulder. 

Sasha yelped, and shuddered, and was blindsided by another orgasm. Dean curled around her, bracing himself on his forearms against the shower as he came.

The hot water cascaded down around them while they caught their breath. After a few moments, Dean turned Sasha in his arms to face him. He pulled her back so they were both standing under the shower. The water streamed over their bodies, wrapping them in its warm embrace.

“What a gift you are,” Dean murmured. “Sasha, my beauty, my sweetheart." 

Sasha sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. With the water all around her, she could pretend her cheeks weren’t wet from tears. 

Dean lifted her chin and kissed her deeply.

Only one word crossed her lips, the only thought in her mind: “Dean.”


	10. Chapter 10

Sasha saw Dean Winchester everywhere she looked. 

She was reminded of him when she saw coffee, or whiskey, or a certain shade of dark red. She thought of him when she slipped on the bracelets he had purchased for her during their first weekend. 

Every time she saw a picture of him, she was reminded of the way he smiled at her, the way he laughed, the way he looked in bed. 

She had hoped to hear from him by now. She thought their last weekend together had been something special. At least she expected Rowena to summon her for another weekend with him. But that number never called her phone. **  
**

She told herself that Dean was busy, that it was the holidays, and he would ask for her again. But all she got was silence.

November passed, and December.

Sasha stopped playing Dean's albums because it hurt too much to hear his voice. She stopped looking at his Instagram because it hurt too much to see his face.

She couldn't entirely escape reminders of him, though. Sometimes she heard his music on the radio. Sometimes she saw bits of news or press about him.

Her coworkers at the restaurant all knew about her obsession with Dean, although they knew nothing about her weekends with him or about her broken heart.

Sometimes in the kitchen, if he came on the radio, they would tease her, "Sasha. It's your favorite. It's your boyfriend." She forced herself to listen, acting like she didn't care and pretending every word didn't wasn't a sharp jab to her heart.

Only once did she let a little bit of the truth slip. It was after work, and she was doing shots with Lee, the bartender.

"What's going on with you, Sash?" He teased her gently. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you had a broken heart, but you haven't even hooked up with any body since-" He stopped talking when he saw her eyes were full of tears.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lee asked.

Sasha shook her head. "I can't," was all she said. Even drunk, she knew that she would sound ridiculous, telling some wild story about hooking up with a star she had a crush on.

Saying that she and Dean had actually gone on a date, that she had spent the night with him, that she thought they actually shared something special- that would sound even more unbelievable.

In that moment, Sasha hated Dean and hated herself. How had she thought it had meant anything? The greatest days of her life were probably a blur to him, a few hours with another girl whose name he had already forgotten.

Sasha dashed the tears off her cheeks and locked up her heart. If the things she had shared with Dean meant nothing to him, they would mean nothing to her. She kept telling herself that, over and over, hoping she would start to believe it.

The secret truth burned like a hot coal in her chest: she was in love with Dean. And she would never get to be with him again.

* * *

Sasha didn't answer her phone when she didn't recognize the number, and rarely checked her voicemail. So a few days passed between getting the call and getting the message. She was halfway listening in her car on her way to work. 

Prescriptions, check. Pay phone bill, check. Then the sound of a familiar voice suddenly filled her ears.

"Sweetheart, it's me." Dean sounded ragged.   
"Just… call me. Text me. I don't care. Let me hear from you, please.”

Blinding tears hit Sasha so hard she had to pull over, her chest heaving with sobs. 

Dean fucking Winchester, after everything he had put her through, he just wanted to call her like that? In the safety of her car, she pounded her fists against the steering wheel. She screamed where no one could hear her. She waited until her heart slowed a little.

She wanted, oh how she wanted, this to really be him. But so many weeks had gone by and she had never heard from him. Had he really called her? Was he missing her too? How could she be sure?

Her voice was too shaky to be trusted so she picked up the phone and texted  
  
 _How do I know it's you?_

She waited, breathless, the phone trembling in her hand.

_Oh, I don't know, baby girl  
Pancakes, coffee in bed  
Don't tease Daddy_

His text replies sent a bolt of white hot longing straight from Sasha's heart to her core. Oh, how she wanted this to be true.

But she had to be sure that this was him, that he was serious, and this was not just some kind of cruel joke.

_Everyone knows you like pancakes. Tell me more._

The texts came one after another;

_Olive garden.  
My queen of hearts.  
Slow dancing in that blues bar._

It was Dean, it had to be.

_Tell me something only you would know about me._

It took a moment but he wrote back.

_You thought I wouldn't notice that you were crying when we had sex in the shower._

Sasha knew, then, that it was really Dean - her Dean. She took another moment to let tears roll down her cheeks. Then she drew in a deep breath. 

Her heart was fluttering with tremulous hope. But she was scared, so scared. What had happened for all these months? What did Dean want, and why had it taken him so long to reach her?

_Nice to finally hear from you._

She kept her reply short and cool, her thumbs spelling out something entirely different from what she was feeling.

_But I have to go to work.  
I'll talk to you later._

Sasha hoped that her tables got what they wanted that night, because she wasn't sure what she was doing. She was so focused on the phone in her pocket, waiting for it to buzz, waiting for Dean to text her again.

And text her he did, so often that she was ducking behind the salad station and the drink machine and the walk in cooler just to peek at her phone.

_Baby, please keep talking to me.  
You wouldn't believe what I've had to deal with.  
Sam and Rowena, they really fucked me over.  
But I missed you.  
Sasha, are you there?_

After hearing nothing from Dean for weeks, Sasha couldn't handle this sudden communication overload. Between serving tables, she found a minute to respond.

_I'll keep talking when I'm ready.  
I'm working right now.  
Give me some time._

Dean was silent the rest of Sasha's shift, and if he responded later, she didn't know, because she started drinking with Lee, and the kitchen crew.

Lee asked her, "You've been acting weird all night. Looking at your phone and smiling. Is this about- the heartbreaker?"

Sasha couldn't help it; she blushed. 

"Who is this mystery man, who can break your heart and still put a smile on your face?" Lee joked. "Your favorite guy in the world, Dean Winchester?"

"Fuck Dean Winchester," Sasha answered. She choked back another shot. Then she rested her forehead against the wooden bar and sobbed.

Sasha woke up, not for the first time, in Lee's apartment. In the past he had given her the bed but now that he had a boyfriend, it made more sense for her to sleep on the couch. 

She pulled on her shoes and slipped out, walking the few blocks back to her apartment. There, she plugged in her phone and fell into bed to sleep some more.

When she woke up later for her shift, Sasha checked her phone and saw another flood of messages.

_Sasha, please  
I've missed you  
I didn't know  
But I missed you  
Fuck, baby girl, I missed you._

It was a lot, and Sasha wasn't sure how to answer. But she could admit one thing:

 _I've missed you too_.

Something Dean said made her curious.

_What didn't you know?_

_I didn't know you were still interested.  
Rowena and Sam told me you were done.  
That you refused to come and see me again._

Sasha was shocked. Did Dean really think that she wasn't interested? As if everything they shared had meant nothing to her? 

_How could you even think that was true?!_

He wrote back:

 _I wanted to get in touch with you right away._  
I didn't have your number.  
They wouldn't give it to me.

She didn't believe him. The whole story seemed farfetched. Unsure what to think, what to say, she stopped answering. 

Sasha tossed her phone on the bed in frustration. When it bounced onto the floor, she didn't pick it up. Instead, she rolled over and cried herself to sleep. 

The first thing Sasha did the next morning was check her phone for anything from Dean. Nothing. She would've convinced herself she had dreamed it all except for the messages she already had. But Dean hadn't texted her back.

Sasha was exhausted before she ever started work. She went through the motions of waiting tables and hoped she was doing okay. She was distracted by checking her phone over and over for another word from Dean.

Nothing came, and Sasha grew increasingly irritated. Her shift was all but over when the hostess let Sasha know she had one more table, one who had asked for her specifically. 

She walked out, unsuspecting, only to be confronted with the sight of Dean Winchester, sitting in a booth, waiting for her.


	11. Chapter 11

“Dean,” she blurted. “What the hell?”

“Sasha,” his eyes lit up just seeing her again. “You wouldn’t answer my texts anymore but I need to talk to you. So here I am.”

Sasha went weak-kneed and melty just seeing him again. He looked rough as if he hadn’t slept in days. At the same time, those eyes, that mouth - she could never resist him. She wanted to hate him, wanted to make him pay; but the truth was, if anything, she hated herself for falling so quickly and completely for him. 

Faced with Dean again, seeing how serious he was, Sasha felt her heart soften. She would’ve launched herself into his arms, except that suddenly Lee was beside her. 

“Hey,” he said. “Is this the guy that’s been bothering you?”

Dean put his hands up in a defenseless gesture. “Hey, no, she knows me, I just wanna talk, okay?”

Lee looked from Dean to Sasha, baffled but still protective. “Sasha? Are you okay talking to him?”

“It’s okay, Lee, I’m going to give this guy five minutes.” Sasha turned towards Dean. 

“You’d better give me one hell of an explanation because these guys are ready to take you out back and kick your ass.” 

His eyes flicked towards Lee and a couple of the cooks who were suddenly very present and glaring at him. 

She slid into the booth across from Dean, keeping the table between them.

Dean reached across the table towards her, then stopped and wound his fingers together. “Sasha, I never meant to hurt you. I would never hurt you on purpose.”

“On purpose or not,” she said plainly. “You did.”

Dean took a deep breath. “The next time I had a weekend away, you were the only girl I asked for. I wanted us to have the time to figure out what we were doing, what all this meant.  
But you never showed up. When I asked, Rowena told me you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. So I left. I wasn’t interested in anyone but you.”

“So you thought I was just there for a good time? I didn’t matter to you - we didn’t matter - and you believed I felt the same way?”

“I didn’t have any idea,” Dean confessed, confusion creasing his face. “I thought we had some feelings for one another, but I also knew that you had signed a contract. Everything was supposed to be no-strings-attached. I didn’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Take advantage of me? Dean, I’ve been yours for the taking from the very beginning.”

“I didn’t know-” Dean began, his voice lost and pleading. 

“I didn’t know, I didn’t know,” Sasha’s voice trailed away, tired and overwhelmed. “After everything we did together, after all of the things we shared… You can’t just come in here and tell me you didn’t know.”

Dean stood up slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. He held out one hand, beseechingly. Sasha looked away and crossed her arms. 

“Sasha, please. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well, you did.” Pain turned into anger as words tumbled out. “You meant so much to me. We meant so much. You can’t erase all those weeks we’ve spent apart. You can’t show up and just undo how bad you’ve hurt me by saying you ‘didn’t know’.”

Dean swallowed hard and blinked. 

“You’ve had your five minutes. Now give me time.” Sasha’s voice was breaking but her chin was set. She jumped to her feet. “Get out Dean, get the fuck out.” 

“Okay.” Dean turned and walked away slowly as if giving her a chance to change her mind. 

He looked broken and alone, with his head hung low and his shoulders slumped. Her heart ached just looking at him. She wanted to run after him, to beg him to stay, but she couldn’t give in, not with her friends there to help keep her strong. 

Lee strode up next to her. “You tell him, Sash,” he murmured. 

Sasha watched until the door closed behind Dean. Then she sank back down into the booth, buried her face in her arms, and burst into tears. 

Later that night, Dean sent her one more text.

_I didn’t mean to upset you.  
I just wanted to see you again._

She ignored it.

…

Sasha woke up the next morning to a knock on her door. She opened it to see a flower delivery person behind the biggest bouquet of red roses she had ever seen in her life. 

The card said simply:  
 _Sweetheart  
Baby girl  
Sasha  
Please  
Xoxo, Dean_

Sasha couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face, but she grabbed her phone and texted:  
 _Roses  
Really, Dean?_

_I know roses are dumb.  
I’m just trying to show you how serious I am.  
Please._

_Please, what?_

_Please, give me another chance._

_Why?_

_I’m crazy for you, Sasha  
I’ve never met anyone like you  
I’ll do anything, anything you want  
Just to have you in my life again_

_Why now?_

_I told you  
I missed you the moment you left.  
Not a day went by that I didn’t want to talk to you  
I couldn’t get ahold of you and didn’t know where to find you_

_Why didn’t you even try to call me, Dean?_

_I thought you didn’t want to hear from me again.  
I like you but I also respect you  
I’m not going to stalk you or try to force your hand._

_Rowena and Sam, right.  
If you’re going to lie to a girl, at least tell a lie that makes sense._

_They’re my family.  
I had no reason to doubt them.   
  
So, what changed your mind?  
_

_A week ago, Rowena walked into my music studio, handed me your number, and told me to call you.  
She said that you’d confirm it.  
I called anyway because I had to hear it from you. _

_Hear what?_

_That you weren’t interested  
That you didn’t want me  
Tell me and I’ll never bother you again._

_You know I can’t, Dean._

_Then please give me another chance.  
Sasha, please. _

Sasha wasn’t ready to answer, didn’t know what to say. So she put her phone down. 

She was surprised when her phone rang a few minutes later and it was not Dean but Rowena. She rolled her eyes but answered. Maybe she could find out a little more about what was really going on.

“It seems that Sam and I owe you an explanation.” Her words were as quick as ever. “Please can we meet for tea?”

Sasha was off work, so she agreed. She was hurt and confused and curious all at once. Maybe Dean had been telling the truth. Maybe Rowena and Sam would back up his story. 

When she got to the coffee shop, they were already there; Sam in a chair that looked too small for him, coffee cup dwarfed by his hand, and Rowena, daintily sipping from a mug of tea. 

Sasha skipped the drinks altogether and sat right down in front of them. “Did Dean send you?" 

The pair looked at one another in confusion before shaking their heads. 

Rowena tossed her head a little and huffed. "Dean doesn’t send me anywhere.”

“But what do you mean?” asked Sam.

“Dean’s been texting me non-stop, trying to convince me to, I don’t know, give him another chance,” Sasha’s tone was guarded. “He told me that you two were the reason he never called or texted me before.”

Rowena nodded slowly. 

“He did ask for me?” Sasha’s heart rose just a little. “And you told him I was not only unavailable but uninterested?”

“That is true,” Rowena admitted.

“How dare you?” Sasha’s voice was rising. “What gives you the right to manipulate us, both of us, like this?”

Sam spoke up then. “The whole thing with the girls’ weekends and Dean was supposed to be fun, and safe. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love.”

“But you were different,” his voice was oddly soft. “The minute you left last time, he started asking for you again. We didn’t have any idea what your intentions were. Girls have lied to him, tried to blackmail him. We are his family. We tried to protect him.”

“That’s why we didn’t give him your number,” Rowena added. “We thought he would move on, forget you.”   
  
“But the opposite happened,” Sam continued, shaking his head slowly. “I’ve never seen my brother like this. He doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep. He’s supposed to be writing new songs. But he doesn’t. He can’t. All he can think about is you.”

“He wouldn’t stop talking about you,” Rowena chimed in. “We arranged another weekend and he left when you weren’t there. We finally agreed-” she paused and looked at Sam. He nodded in agreement. “We agreed to give him your number. I calculated enough time had passed that you would be over him, and send him on his way.”

“There is not enough time in the world for me to get over Dean,” Sasha answered, the words falling from her lips before she could stop them.

“I know.” A smug smile curled Rowena’s lips even as she rolled her eyes. "But now, you’re driving him crazy. Girl, he’s gone on you. He’s positively pitiful.”

Sasha looked from one to the other. “So Dean didn’t put you up to this?" 

They both shook their heads. 

"Shit, no, we just wanted you to know the truth so you can decide what to do about Dean,” Sam answered. “He’s my brother, no one knows him like I do, and I’ve never seen him like this. He’s happy with you and inconsolable without you. We had to try and make things right.” 

The two of them stood up to leave but Rowena turned back and placed one fine hand on Sasha’s arm. "Dean loves you, you know. I wouldn’t throw that away.”

Sasha was left speechless. So much information, so many questions answered at once. Dean had been telling the truth; he hadn’t forgotten her or intended to hurt her. Their time together had meant something to him, too. But all she could hear were Rowena’s parting words, over and over in her mind: “Dean loves you.”

…

When she got to her car, Sasha checked her phone and saw she had another burst of texts from Dean. He must’ve messaged while she was talking to his brother and manager.

_Sweetheart, I know you’re still mad at me  
You have every right to be.   
There’s something I need you to see.   
Go to my Instagram.  
Please._

She couldn’t say no. She was curious, and honestly so confused after the things that Sam and Rowena had just confirmed for her. She didn’t know what to think or feel. 

Dean’s latest post was a 7-second video clip of him performing- wait- was that _Sounds of Someday_? 

Sasha had never seen a recording of it. She had heard that song just once, when Dean had sung it in a crowded blues bar, and the way his eyes met hers across the room made her feel like he was singing just to her. 

The caption was a link. She clicked it and opened a video of Dean, what looked like a cell phone video. 

“I want to share my latest song with you.” His voice sounded desperate and hopeful at once. "This one is for a very special woman. Sweetheart, I hope you see this.“ 

Sasha gasped. In her wildest dreams, she could not have imagined Dean Winchester recording a song for her. But there was no way he was talking to anyone else. Not after this week, not after everything that had happened. Her hands were shaking, and she almost dropped the phone.


	12. Chapter 12

The warm golden sounds of Dean’s voice poured from Sasha’s phone and wrapped around her heart. **  
**

Sounds of Someday, and he had recorded it back in that blues bar. Sasha recognized it immediately and remembered the feeling of him singing just to her. Oh, but he was! This song was for her, all for her. Sasha closed her eyes as hot tears flowed down her cheeks.

By the time the video ended, Sasha was absolutely wrecked. The emotion in Dean’s voice, the meaning in his lyrics, had called to her since she first heard him sing. The desire in this song was so strong, it knocked the wind out of her. 

Knowing that at last, he was really singing for, longing for her was overwhelming. She held her phone for a long time before she finally tapped out a text, words falling far short of expressing the gratitude in her heart:   
_Thank you._

He must’ve been waiting for her because immediately, her phone buzzed in her hand. She answered, only to hear silence. 

“Dean?” she queried.

His breathing on the other end was ragged, broken. 

“I need to see you again,” he finally choked out. “There’s- we have so much to talk about.“

Sasha nodded silently. There was something Dean absolutely had to know. “Rowena and Sam asked me for a meeting today.” 

Dean swore softly.

“No, I understand more now. You told me the truth. What I don’t understand is why you went along with it. You let your brother and your manager run your life like that?” 

Sasha heard Dean huff out a hard laugh.

“They had me actually convinced that you didn’t want anything to do with me. I didn’t know until this week that you were still interested.”

Sasha shook her head. She didn’t know if this was something that they could sort out.

“Please, can I see you again? If we can talk, we can fix this. We can start over, try again.”

“Can we? It’s gonna take work, from both of us.”

“You’re worth the work, hon.” He paused. “I’m in if you are, if it’s for you, for us. 

Sasha shook her head but ultimately agreed. “We can try, I’ll do that. But how?” 

…

They agreed to meet at the hotel where they had always met before, but Sasha couldn’t sleep that night. Her thoughts and emotions were still a storm of conflict. Dean was absolutely serious about this, she had no doubt. They were both ready for a fresh start, another shot. Could they rebuild, together? 

Sasha woke up to a knock on the door. She had planned to get up earlier, shower and get dolled up before Dean saw her. In the bathroom, she looked in the mirror. Why not let him see her like this? She gave her teeth a quick brush, pushed her tousled wavy hair behind her ears, and called it good. 

She opened the door and there he was, Dean Winchester, her Dean. His hands scuffed nervously over his thighs.

“Dean,” she murmured, her voice catching on his name, as she stood back to let him in.

“Sasha,” he answered, his face lit up with so much hope and longing that she bit back a sob. The air between them was choked with words unspoken.

Sasha sat back on the bed. Dean took two steps and sank to his knees in front of her. He reached out with both his hands. She willingly slipped her hands into his warm grasp.

“I’m sorry.” His eyes were wide and bright. “You’re the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. Sweetheart, you’re a gift. I’d do anything, anything, to not lose you again.”

Tears streaked down Sasha’s face. Dean was earnest and open in a way that she had never seen before. She was absolutely convinced that he meant every word. 

“You deserve so much more.” His voice broke, that wonderful voice that she could never resist. “Let me be good to you, let me try for you. Sasha, stay.” 

She couldn’t speak, only nod. Dean stood up and drew her with him. 

He reached out one hand and stroked her face with just his fingertips, carefully, tenderly - as if he were afraid that she would burst like a soap bubble under his touch. 

She felt the last bit of anger inside her float away in a million tiny fragments. He was the one who had broken her heart, and the only one who could heal it again. He was already picking up the pieces with every word, with every look, with every touch. 

Sasha let herself lean into Dean, giving into the longing between them, trusting him finally. She buried her face in his chest, savoring the whiskey smoke smell of him. Her fingers curled into his shirt, grabbing greedy handfuls. Safe in his arms, she let herself go.  
  
Dean pulled her in closer as deep sobs wracked her body, unleashing all her feelings in the shelter of his embrace. He held her tight, stroking her hair and soothing her. 

Gradually her breathing evened out.  
  
She felt the familiar rasp of his calloused fingers trace her cheek and relaxed into his touch, basking in the warmth of his skin on hers. He tilted her chin up ever so slightly and bent his head, and she met his lips with hers. 

What she was feeling was too fragile for words, hesitant and hopeful. She took a deep shaky breath but anything else she was going to say was lost under Dean’s mouth on hers. He covered her lips, her face, her hair, her hands with kisses; and between every single one, he whispered her name, deep and reverent.

So many questions still hung unanswered between them, but only one mattered in that moment, the one they were asking and answering over and over again with their bodies: 

_Do you still want me?_  
  
 _Yes_ , they answered with every press of their lips together.

 _Yes_ , they answered with every beat of their hearts.

 _Yes_ , they answered in the frantic, hopeful way they clung to each other. 

They couldn’t bear to let go. They would never be apart again.

Words felt too unwieldy, too dangerous to unleash into the fragile air around them. Sasha and Dean fell back on the thing they had always shared, their common ground since the beginning.

She had always enjoyed being with him, never been ashamed to bare herself in front of him, but this was a whole new self reveal. It seemed like Dean agreed because they were pulling off their clothes as fast as they could without losing contact with each other. 

She found herself laid back on the bed with Dean rising over her, strong arms caging her in, insistent hips rolling up between her thighs. 

She didn’t have any words, didn’t know how to express everything she was thinking. She let her body speak for her, rising up to arch against him. Her hands grabbed for him, pulling him close.

“Please,” the whimper fell from her lips unbidden. 

Dean pressed Sasha back against the pillows, covering her face and neck with passionate kisses. Sasha wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him desperately. Her nails pressed dark half-moons into his freckled and inked skin. 

Dean’s eyes never left her face as he slid slowly into her. A long moan fell from Sasha’s mouth. She had missed this, missed the way Dean could push and stretch and fill her; the way he dragged out, slow and grinding, before slamming back into her; the way he rolled up against her with perfect friction.

Sasha’s eyes fluttered closed as she spread her hips farther, inviting him, begging for him. Dean put a hand on one knee, pushing it up and towards the mattress. She mirrored the gesture with her other leg, drawing him in, taking him deeper.

She folded her legs over his ass, pressing him close. She crossed her ankles as if locking onto him.

Dean’s pace was steady and relentless. He quickly pushed Sasha to a place where she was coming unraveled. The warm aching need between her legs spread between her whole body. She was floating, unmoored from everything, lost in the rhythm of Dean and her together. 

She didn’t even know that she was sobbing again until Dean’s voice reached her. 

"Sasha,” he sounded far away. His hand cupping her chin gently brought her eyes into focus on his face. 

Sasha felt for the first time that hot, fat tears were tracking down her cheeks. 

“Is this okay?” he murmured as he traced away tears with his thumb. 

She nodded and buried her face in his shoulder, pulling his face down next to hers. “Need you,” she begged.

Dean began to move again. She needed him to keep pushing her, filling her. She was desperate, scrambling to get back to that floating weightless place.

Sasha felt her body wind higher and higher with tension, Dean pushing her farther and farther with his body. She felt like she was skidding along a cliff, gasping for air, grabbing for anything, on the edge of release. The only constant was Dean, in and on and around her and-

“Fuuuuuuck,” he breathed as she felt herself clench around him, over and over, needy and desperate and- 

A groan tore from her throat and her head tipped back against the pillow. Her vision went completely black as she came harder than she ever had.

When she found herself in her body again, she opened her eyes to see nothing but Dean. She heard him moan her name and then his eyes rolled back in his head. He was pounding into her so hard and so deep and-

She cried out helplessly, caught up in the wave of another orgasm. That was when Dean leaned into her one final time, his hips stuttering as he lost himself deep inside her.

After a moment, he rolled over, pulling her on top of him. Sasha stayed pressed against him, her tears trickling down his chest. Eventually, her breathing leveled out.

Dean held her close with one arm and used his free hand to brush the tears from her cheeks with gentle fingertips. 

"Are you ready to talk now?” She heard his words under her touch, deep inside his chest. 

She shook her head. There were still too many tangled thoughts and feelings for her to express.

Dean sat up, pulling her with him. His hand cupped her face as he kissed the tears from her cheeks, and then kissed her lips again. 

“You know, I think a stiff drink would help.”

Sasha couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face.

“I have a bar in my room,” Dean said. "Pack up your stuff, and come down the hall.”  
He turned on the charm as he continued. “I’m not making the mistake of letting you go again. From now on, you’re staying with me." 


	13. Chapter 13

The warm golden sounds of Dean’s voice poured from Sasha’s phone and wrapped around her heart. **  
**

Sounds of Someday, and he had recorded it back in that blues bar. Sasha recognized it immediately and remembered the feeling of him singing just to her. Oh, but he was! This song was for her, all for her. Sasha closed her eyes as hot tears flowed down her cheeks.

By the time the video ended, Sasha was absolutely wrecked. The emotion in Dean’s voice, the meaning in his lyrics, had called to her since she first heard him sing. The desire in this song was so strong, it knocked the wind out of her. 

Knowing that at last, he was really singing for, longing for her was overwhelming. She held her phone for a long time before she finally tapped out a text, words falling far short of expressing the gratitude in her heart:   
_Thank you._

He must’ve been waiting for her because immediately, her phone buzzed in her hand. She answered, only to hear silence. 

“Dean?” she queried.

His breathing on the other end was ragged, broken. 

“I need to see you again,” he finally choked out. “There’s- we have so much to talk about.“

Sasha nodded silently. There was something Dean absolutely had to know. “Rowena and Sam asked me for a meeting today.” 

Dean swore softly.

“No, I understand more now. You told me the truth. What I don’t understand is why you went along with it. You let your brother and your manager run your life like that?” 

Sasha heard Dean huff out a hard laugh.

“They had me actually convinced that you didn’t want anything to do with me. I didn’t know until this week that you were still interested.”

Sasha shook her head. She didn’t know if this was something that they could sort out.

“Please, can I see you again? If we can talk, we can fix this. We can start over, try again.”

“Can we? It’s gonna take work, from both of us.”

“You’re worth the work, hon.” He paused. “I’m in if you are, if it’s for you, for us. 

Sasha shook her head but ultimately agreed. “We can try, I’ll do that. But how?” 

…

They agreed to meet at the hotel where they had always met before, but Sasha couldn’t sleep that night. Her thoughts and emotions were still a storm of conflict. Dean was absolutely serious about this, she had no doubt. They were both ready for a fresh start, another shot. Could they rebuild, together? 

Sasha woke up to a knock on the door. She had planned to get up earlier, shower and get dolled up before Dean saw her. In the bathroom, she looked in the mirror. Why not let him see her like this? She gave her teeth a quick brush, pushed her tousled wavy hair behind her ears, and called it good. 

She opened the door and there he was, Dean Winchester, her Dean. His hands scuffed nervously over his thighs.

“Dean,” she murmured, her voice catching on his name, as she stood back to let him in.

“Sasha,” he answered, his face lit up with so much hope and longing that she bit back a sob. The air between them was choked with words unspoken.

Sasha sat back on the bed. Dean took two steps and sank to his knees in front of her. He reached out with both his hands. She willingly slipped her hands into his warm grasp.

“I’m sorry.” His eyes were wide and bright. “You’re the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. Sweetheart, you’re a gift. I’d do anything, anything, to not lose you again.”

Tears streaked down Sasha’s face. Dean was earnest and open in a way that she had never seen before. She was absolutely convinced that he meant every word. 

“You deserve so much more.” His voice broke, that wonderful voice that she could never resist. “Let me be good to you, let me try for you. Sasha, stay.” 

She couldn’t speak, only nod. Dean stood up and drew her with him. 

He reached out one hand and stroked her face with just his fingertips, carefully, tenderly - as if he were afraid that she would burst like a soap bubble under his touch. 

She felt the last bit of anger inside her float away in a million tiny fragments. He was the one who had broken her heart, and the only one who could heal it again. He was already picking up the pieces with every word, with every look, with every touch. 

Sasha let herself lean into Dean, giving into the longing between them, trusting him finally. She buried her face in his chest, savoring the whiskey smoke smell of him. Her fingers curled into his shirt, grabbing greedy handfuls. Safe in his arms, she let herself go.  
  
Dean pulled her in closer as deep sobs wracked her body, unleashing all her feelings in the shelter of his embrace. He held her tight, stroking her hair and soothing her. 

Gradually her breathing evened out.  
  
She felt the familiar rasp of his calloused fingers trace her cheek and relaxed into his touch, basking in the warmth of his skin on hers. He tilted her chin up ever so slightly and bent his head, and she met his lips with hers. 

What she was feeling was too fragile for words, hesitant and hopeful. She took a deep shaky breath but anything else she was going to say was lost under Dean’s mouth on hers. He covered her lips, her face, her hair, her hands with kisses; and between every single one, he whispered her name, deep and reverent.

So many questions still hung unanswered between them, but only one mattered in that moment, the one they were asking and answering over and over again with their bodies: 

_Do you still want me?_  
  
 _Yes_ , they answered with every press of their lips together.

 _Yes_ , they answered with every beat of their hearts.

 _Yes_ , they answered in the frantic, hopeful way they clung to each other. 

They couldn’t bear to let go. They would never be apart again.

Words felt too unwieldy, too dangerous to unleash into the fragile air around them. Sasha and Dean fell back on the thing they had always shared, their common ground since the beginning.

She had always enjoyed being with him, never been ashamed to bare herself in front of him, but this was a whole new self reveal. It seemed like Dean agreed because they were pulling off their clothes as fast as they could without losing contact with each other. 

She found herself laid back on the bed with Dean rising over her, strong arms caging her in, insistent hips rolling up between her thighs. 

She didn’t have any words, didn’t know how to express everything she was thinking. She let her body speak for her, rising up to arch against him. Her hands grabbed for him, pulling him close.

“Please,” the whimper fell from her lips unbidden. 

Dean pressed Sasha back against the pillows, covering her face and neck with passionate kisses. Sasha wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him desperately. Her nails pressed dark half-moons into his freckled and inked skin. 

Dean’s eyes never left her face as he slid slowly into her. A long moan fell from Sasha’s mouth. She had missed this, missed the way Dean could push and stretch and fill her; the way he dragged out, slow and grinding, before slamming back into her; the way he rolled up against her with perfect friction.

Sasha’s eyes fluttered closed as she spread her hips farther, inviting him, begging for him. Dean put a hand on one knee, pushing it up and towards the mattress. She mirrored the gesture with her other leg, drawing him in, taking him deeper.

She folded her legs over his ass, pressing him close. She crossed her ankles as if locking onto him.

Dean’s pace was steady and relentless. He quickly pushed Sasha to a place where she was coming unraveled. The warm aching need between her legs spread between her whole body. She was floating, unmoored from everything, lost in the rhythm of Dean and her together. 

She didn’t even know that she was sobbing again until Dean’s voice reached her. 

"Sasha,” he sounded far away. His hand cupping her chin gently brought her eyes into focus on his face. 

Sasha felt for the first time that hot, fat tears were tracking down her cheeks. 

“Is this okay?” he murmured as he traced away tears with his thumb. 

She nodded and buried her face in his shoulder, pulling his face down next to hers. “Need you,” she begged.

Dean began to move again. She needed him to keep pushing her, filling her. She was desperate, scrambling to get back to that floating weightless place.

Sasha felt her body wind higher and higher with tension, Dean pushing her farther and farther with his body. She felt like she was skidding along a cliff, gasping for air, grabbing for anything, on the edge of release. The only constant was Dean, in and on and around her and-

“Fuuuuuuck,” he breathed as she felt herself clench around him, over and over, needy and desperate and- 

A groan tore from her throat and her head tipped back against the pillow. Her vision went completely black as she came harder than she ever had.

When she found herself in her body again, she opened her eyes to see nothing but Dean. She heard him moan her name and then his eyes rolled back in his head. He was pounding into her so hard and so deep and-

She cried out helplessly, caught up in the wave of another orgasm. That was when Dean leaned into her one final time, his hips stuttering as he lost himself deep inside her.

After a moment, he rolled over, pulling her on top of him. Sasha stayed pressed against him, her tears trickling down his chest. Eventually, her breathing leveled out.

Dean held her close with one arm and used his free hand to brush the tears from her cheeks with gentle fingertips. 

"Are you ready to talk now?” She heard his words under her touch, deep inside his chest. 

She shook her head. There were still too many tangled thoughts and feelings for her to express.

Dean sat up, pulling her with him. His hand cupped her face as he kissed the tears from her cheeks, and then kissed her lips again. 

“You know, I think a stiff drink would help.”

Sasha couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face.

“I have a bar in my room,” Dean said. "Pack up your stuff, and come down the hall.”  
He turned on the charm as he continued. “I’m not making the mistake of letting you go again. From now on, you’re staying with me." 


	14. Chapter 14

Sasha woke up slowly. Her heart had an unfamiliar lightness. Warm, strong arms were wrapped around her. She remembered that she was with Dean. Her eyes slowly fluttered open to see him grinning down at her. She smiled and reached up one hand to stroke his stubbled jaw, as he lowered his lips for a kiss.

“Having some good dreams there, baby girl?” He drawled.  
  
Sasha felt herself blush, even though she wasn’t sure what he meant. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, you kept moaning my name with your pretty mouth, you know.”  
  
Sasha suddenly remembered she had been dreaming about Dean. 

“I had the weirdest dream. It was like this, but not. Rowena was calling my phone, telling me to come back, that I was the only girl who could satisfy Big Daddy Dean Winchester.”  
  
Dean laughed, then, that magical open-mouth laugh that shook his whole body. He looked down at Sasha. 

“Well,” he said, “Why don’t you come here, baby girl, and show me exactly how you satisfy Daddy.”

She launched herself into his arms. “Oh, yeah,” she sighed into his ear. “Fuck me good, Daddy.”  
  
Dean rolled her back onto the bed, rising above her on strong arms. “You wake up wanting me? I’ll do my best.” 

Sasha answered by shimmying under him. Dean thrust his hips a few times, sliding up between her thighs. She sighed and rolled her legs open. He didn’t need any more of an invitation. 

He ran one hand over and down her body. “Such a pretty little thing. And you’re mine, all mine." 

Sasha hummed happily and pressed up against him. "All yours,” she murmured. 

Dean sank into her greedily, in and out. Sasha rocked underneath him, urging him deeper. She swiveled her hips from side to side as he slowly buried himself in her warm depths. She bit her lip to choke back a moan. 

“God, baby,” he panted, dragging back out and then thrusting all the way in. “You’re so pretty, the way you look when you’re taking my cock.” 

“Daddy,” she whined.

Dean pounded into Sasha. There was no one who filled her like this, who fucked her so well. She was wide open under him, giving as much as she was taking. He set a hard pace, relentlessly pushing Sasha with his body. His knees straddled hers like they had been meant to fit together, holding her down even as he pushed her up higher and higher.

She was eager for him, short, mewling cries falling from her lips. 

“Damn, baby girl,” he murmured. “I wish you could see how you look when you’re about to come, that pretty mouth of yours open and making all those filthy noises.” 

Sasha shook her head but she was helpless under his steady attention. Finally, she felt herself let go, clamping around him as she came.

Dean sucked in a deep inhale and then let it back out in a series of short hard breaths. The rhythm of his hips slowed as he dragged out one more time before he released inside Sasha. He couldn’t form words, just a throaty moan.   
  
Afterward, they lay back on the bed. Dean’s hand nudged into Sasha’s and their fingers laced together.

“Hey, Sasha,” he spoke eventually, his tone low and easy. “I think it’s coffee time. There is a cafe just around the block from here that has the best cinnamon rolls.“  
  
Sasha giggled. “Ok, yeah, keep talking dirty to me.”  
  


Sasha had packed the red sweater dress from Jody’s boutique, and she layered it over tights. As she slipped on her favorite low boots, she caught Dean eyeing her appreciatively.  
  
She cocked one hip. “Like what you see?”  
  
Dean nodded and took her hand. “I do. But wait until you try these cinnamon rolls.” Sasha couldn’t help but laugh. 

At the cafe, Dean over-ordered, as usual. He got the cinnamon rolls, a scrambled egg skillet with avocado and mushrooms, a hashbrown casserole with peppers and onions and ham, a stack of pancakes, and a side of candied maple bacon. 

The cinnamon rolls were amazing, and so was everything else. Dean happily shared bite after bite with Sasha. She knew how important food was to him, and he was nothing if not generous. 

Finally, Sasha asked a question that had been nagging her. 

"Sam said you couldn’t write any music. Don’t you need to put out another album?”

Dean sighed and nuzzled into Sasha’s shoulder. 

“Oh, I could write, sweetheart, but I could only write love songs, mostly about my broken heart.”

Sasha giggled, a low indulgent sound. “Dean Winchester: the Heartbreak Tour?” she asked lightly.

Dean scoffed. “No. Now that I have you back, I’m sure I’ll have a whole new inspiration for songwriting.”

When they had finished far too much coffee and lingered for far too long, he pulled her to her feet. “Come on, sweetheart,” he said, “I have someplace to show you.” 

They walked for a couple of blocks and then turned a corner. The river ran before them, open and deep. Sunlight sparkled on the water.

“When I thought about you, Sasha, when I missed you so much,” Dean gestured to the water. “I came here and watched the river run. It felt like the only place that I could breathe, the only place that I could write.”

He led her to a bench, sat down and pulled her in close. They were quickly wrapped in one another’s arms, kissing deeply.

But there was one more thing Sasha needed to know. “Dean,” she murmured. “Were you writing songs for me? Love songs?”

Dean answered her wordlessly at first, with the press of his full mouth on hers, his tongue warm and seeking, sucking on her bottom lip. He answered her pulling her into his strong embrace.

“Yeah, Sasha,” he finally spoke. “I wrote you love songs.” He sat back, cocking an eyebrow, waiting for her response.

“Dean,” she began, her heart in her throat. "There’s always been something about you for me, about the way your songs make me feel.”

He smiled and then placed a gentle finger on her lips. He enjoyed her praise but had so much more to say. 

“Let me.” Dean looked down, and then back at Sasha. His green eyes were bright, his face wide open.

“The moment I laid eyes on you, I could see there was something special about you. You just have this spark. So sure of yourself, and exactly what I needed, all at the same time. You didn’t seem interested in ‘Dean Winchester, the star.’ You saw me, just me.”

Dean was looking at Sasha with so much longing, her heart hurt. She swallowed past the lump in her throat before she could speak.

"There’s always been something about you. From the first moment I heard you sing, your voice has called to me. All I ever wanted was to know you, to be near you. Nothing in the world means so much to me as you. I love you, Dean.”

Sasha pressed her fingers to her mouth, but it was too late. Her words hung in the air. 

Dean chuckled softly and shook his head. 

“I love you, too, Sasha. I didn’t know it until I thought I had lost you, but I do. And I’ll never let you go again.”

He pulled Sasha to him, wrapping her in his arms as he kissed her. She sighed happily against his mouth. This was where she felt safe and whole. With Dean, her heart had come home.

Sasha nuzzled closer, slipping her hands inside Dean’s jacket. “Dean,” she murmured. “I’m cold.”

He cupped her hands in his. “Oh, baby, you’re freezing! Come on, I know what will warm you up.” 


	15. Chapter 15

The SUV was warm, and Sasha soon stopped shivering. Back at the hotel, Dean took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

Sasha peeled off her jeans first before pulling her top over her head. She was wearing nothing but a bra and panties while Dean was still unbuttoning his shirt. He eyed her appreciatively while he undid his belt, then his jeans, then did a little sexy hip wriggle that left him naked. 

Sasha lay back on the bed and Dean’s hot gaze raked over her bare skin. They had done this together so many times, but this time, it felt different. This time, they were sealing the promise they had made to one another. 

“I love you,” Dean whispered.

His voice was low and desperate, just before he sank his mouth onto hers. She hummed under his touch. Dean trailed kisses from her lips up her jawline, all the while his hands roamed over her body. 

He undid her bra and her breasts fell free. Dean grasped them and buried his face in the softness. His stubbled jaw grazed Sasha’s fine skin with a pink flush.

Eventually, Dean lifted his lips to hers again. His hands wandered down her sides, cupping the soft swell where her waist dipped in. She raised her face, begging, as he kissed a hot path down her neck to the hollow of her throat. He pressed in with his tongue, sucking and hungry. Sasha’s hips rose unbidden.

  
“Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” Dean murmured against the racing pulse under her skin. Sasha could only nod, wordlessly.  
  
Dean kissed across her collarbones and down the bare skin of her breastbone before his mouth found one nipple. He flicked it with his tongue and Sasha sighed before he made his way to her other breast. Dean took his time, there, licking and sucking and worshipping her as Sasha bucked against his warm mouth. Then he moved his kisses lower, down her ribs and across her stomach. She shivered and moaned.

Dean chuckled before he took one thigh in his hand. He tilted her knee back, up and open. He trailed a line of kisses from her knee towards her center. His scruffy jaw brushed the fine skin of her inner thigh as he moved in and up.

“Dean,” she begged, her breath fast.

In response, he dipped his mouth lower, all the way down to the ankle that rested against the bed. He mouthed a row of little sucking kisses, increasing the pressure as he moved higher. By the time he rounded her knee, he was lapping with his tongue in earnest, licking and nibbling little bruises into the velvety skin of Sasha’s thighs. 

She was breathing hard, long panting breaths that bordered on sobs. Every press of Dean’s lips on her skin was like a trail of sparks, all shooting upwards. 

“Oh,” she breathed, shamelessly rising up towards him.

He teased her just a little longer, running his tongue up the crease of her thigh. Finally, he threw one knee over his shoulder. He dipped his mouth in and kissed the spot where her ass folded into her thigh. He spread her lips with his tongue and licked one hot line all the way up her center.

Sasha whined. “Please, want you,” she begged.

“Fuck, I want you too,” Dean answered. “Want you so bad." 

Finally, Dean lowered his mouth to her. She was wet, needy and begging. He was hungry, so hungry for her. Giving her what she wanted was exactly what satisfied him. She sighed as he buried his face deep between her thighs. 

Dean’s lips were soft, his jaw firm. The things he did with those plush lips, the pressure he applied, the way he could push her so quickly- it was like magic.

Under his welcome attention, Sasha let herself go. She rocked her hips from side to side, grinding into his face, begging for more. Moaning cries fell from her lips. Her fingers tangled in Dean’s thick hair, pushing him in and holding him close.

Dean ate her up like her desire was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. She groaned, a reckless wanton sound as he pushed her closer, straight into her point of no return. He worked her with his mouth until she came, unwinding wet and hot on his face. 

Sasha lay in Dean’s arms until her heartbeat slowed and her breath evened out. This, she thought, was what she deserved. 

As if he could read her thoughts, Dean leaned over and kissed her. "I love you, Sasha." 

She smiled against his mouth and answered him, "I love you, Dean.”

After a moment, Dean spoke up again. “Hey,” he asked, with a glimmer in his eye. “Are you warm enough yet?" 

Sasha looked at him, puzzled. 

Dean stood up. Sasha enjoyed the view of his broad shoulders, strong back, and round firm ass as he walked out the door. She followed him to the sound of running water. 

In the bathroom, he was leaning over the hot tub, up to his elbows in bubbles. 

She giggled. “Did you get a little carried away with the bubble bath?” 

Dean looked up at the sound of her voice, a wide grin crossing his face. He held out one hand, soap suds dripping from his muscular arms. Sasha took his hand and let him help her into the tub. She sank down, bubbles rising up around her neck.

The water embraced her, warm and welcome. She sighed and leaned her head back against the cool edge of the tub.

“Hang on,” said Dean, loping out of the room before returning with two glasses of sparkling wine. He handed both to her as he slid down into the water next to her. 

Sasha sighed happily before taking a long sip of her drink. Her, and Dean, in a hot tub - was she still dreaming? But he was so very there, present and handsome, plush lips pressed on hers. 

She took a moment to stretch, luxuriating in everything that had happened already this weekend. She had, somehow, improbably, told Dean that she loved him. And he had somehow, impossibly, said that he loved her too.

"Sasha,” he murmured, his voice low. “Come home with me.”

She gasped, then nodded.

_I want you  
I love you_

Their kisses echoed the words they had said, the promises they had spoken.

Sasha sighed happily, stretched in the warm bubbly water, and laid her head on Dean’s shoulder. The longing in his music that had first called to her, had finally drawn them together. She had come home, home to Dean. 

**_The End_ **


End file.
